


Harry Potter and The Year That Four 1st Years Solved The Inter-House Unity Problem

by thefandomlife



Series: A Ravenclaw, a Hufflepuff, a Gryffindor, and a Slytherin walk into a bar.... [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Harry Potter Setting, BAMF Minerva McGonagall, Book 1: Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Bullying, Draco and Dean bond over their mutual daddy issues, Dyslexic Ron Weasley, F/F, F/M, Gryffindor Draco Malfoy, Gryffindors aren't just brave, Hermione is the kindest and purest witch of her generation, Hogwarts Inter-House Unity, Hufflepuff Hermione Granger, Hufflepuff's can be bullies too, Hufflepuffs aren't just kind, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Jewish Ron Weasley, M/M, Not Canon Compliant - Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone, Padma Patil has ADD, Padma is the smartest witch of her generation, Ravenclaw Ron Weasley, Ravenclaws aren't just smart, Ron and Harry are so pure, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherins aren't just evil, Study Group, Susan Bones is so pure and wholesome, kids can be so mean!, slytherin squad, the Hufflepuff's mean well, these babies get into the houses they deserve to be in
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-24
Updated: 2020-07-11
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:34:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 7
Words: 43,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22859302
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thefandomlife/pseuds/thefandomlife
Summary: "You will be sorted into one of the four houses.First there's Hufflepuff, the house where those who value loyalty, fairness, kindness, and dedication dwellThen there's Ravenclaw, the home to those who aren't deemed as smart and intelligent, but those that value information, creativity, and individualityThere are those who do great in Slytherin, who aren't evil by nature but live their lives in determination and value their ambitions and cunning above all elseAnd finally Gryffindor, where the true courageous dwell and have the bravery to be fierce and determined in their walk of life."-The welcome speech that McGonagall didn't go into detail about to impressionable eleven year olds
Relationships: Draco Malfoy & Fred Weasley & George Weasley, Draco Malfoy & Pansy Parkinson & Harry Potter & Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter & Blaise Zabini, Harry Potter & Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy, Hermione Granger & Draco Malfoy & Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson & Harry Potter, Pansy Parkinson & Hermione Granger - Relationship, Ron Weasley & Padma Patil, no ships at the moment they are eleven for merlin's sake!
Series: A Ravenclaw, a Hufflepuff, a Gryffindor, and a Slytherin walk into a bar.... [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1643281
Comments: 75
Kudos: 271





	1. prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all, I was inspired by a text post to create this idea. Before I had seen this post, I had been convinced that Hermione belonged in Ravenclaw anD Ron in Hufflepuff. But I soon realized it had to be switched around and I just fell in love with the idea of writing about these four kiddos finding friendship in each other even though they are in different houses. 
> 
> My plan is to try and attack the entire series. It might take me months, maybe years, maybe my entire freakin' life but I want to at least try and create something for this fandom<3
> 
> So without further ado, I introduce you to my story....
> 
> *all the characters and plot points are not my own, they belong to JK Rowling*

August 10th, 1990

The Ministry of Magic was a cold and domineering building; the walls were made of cobblestone with defensive spells weaved into the cracks, navy blue interior with gold accents decorated the carpets and decorations hung on the pristine walls, and voices of ministry employees and wizards and witches coming and going echoed up into the high ceiling hauntingly. Muggleborn witches and wizards always compared the government building to churches and cathedrals of catholic descent, the neutrality and obvious lack of personality in the building made them quite unbearably uncomfortable. Even Draco Malfoy, a pureblooded son of the Malfoy family line, felt vastly uncomfortable in the building his father constantly occupied. Lucius Malfoy had his hands in the pockets of every weak minded politician in the wizengamot. That was always evident to Draco as he grew up quickly in the cold confines of the Malfoy patriarchal upbringing, especially so with the countless trials his father boasted about bringing him to one day. 

That day was upon him, and even though Draco had only heard such great and powerful things his father boasted about, he wasn't all that excited to be attending his first trial. The look that had crossed his mother's face resembled a rain cloud, her face had fallen before she could hide her expressions behind the Slytherin mask she always wore as battle armor. Draco had always been close to his mother, unashamedly even! He wasn't afraid to listen to his mother's orders and rules, even in the face of Crabbe and Goyle teasing him for it. They had gotten in plenty of fist fits and pointed insults thrown venomously, Draco was unafraid of his loyalty to his mother.

The main hall of the Ministry was packed, as it usually was. There were so many different kinds of witches and wizards coming in and out of floo networks and apparating around them. Many of them were probably Mudbloods and blood traitors, as Lucius had come to train Draco to believe. But Draco knew that his mother was still secretly in contact with his Aunt Andromeda, who was supposedly a blood traitor-- so what did that make his mother in his father's view? Instead of sneering, Draco schooled his face to wear a bored expression. He couldn't help but think of how awful it would be to make such a face or throw such a horrible insult at his kind aunt, so he would never do it to anyone else.

Lucius stood out from the crowd though, with his white blonde hair pulled back with a tie and his sharp expression that everyone cowered away from him. Draco noted the sneer on his pointed face, schooling himself to look away so his father couldn't see the disappointment he was to the pureblood Malfoy line. Lucius was a tall and domineering man who could say anything to get what he wanted, Draco had been scared of him on more than one occasion and not just because of his frightening physical presence. Draco had seen one too many Christmas parties where politicians were roped into deals by blackmail that Lucius was able to web his way around. 

Lucius was able to grab an elevator, pulling Draco close to his side in the corner. It wasn’t a move to make room for the young woman struggling with her papers or the elderly woman with a cane, it was so Lucius could whisper his expectations in Draco’s ear. Well it was probably to do with the messy haired muggleborn wearing articles of clothing that did NOT resemble anything close to a robe. _It's probably what mother called a "branded hoodie", she most definitely sticks out here...._ Draco thought with a wince of sympathy and pain from the tight grip his father had on his shoulder. 

“Stand up straight," Draco's spine straightened reflexively, "get rid of that poor excuse of a scowl on your face," his face relaxed from the tension Draco had been holding all morning, "comb your hair back," Lucius discreetly waved his wand to smooth the stray strands of blonde locks from falling over Draco's forehead, "and don’t get in any arguments. Do you understand me, son?” Lucius’ breath on Draco’s neck had goosebumps spreading down his arms and spine.

“Yes, father.” Draco gritted out, wanting more than anything to get out of his stupid set of robes that itched horrendously.

They came to the floor designated for Wizengamot hearings, the doors opening to crowds of wizards conversing among each other. The room was smaller than what the courtroom was going to be, a chandelier hung above everyone's head and bathed the room in light spots that twinkled and shone vibrantly. Draco tried to school his expression to be neutral as glances were casted their way. A tall wizard with sharp, eagle-like eyes parted from his current conversation and came striding towards them, his robes billowing behind him like a cape. It was Theo’s father, Quinton Nott, a man who seemed to never allow a genuine expression to cross his face. His eyes were dark and emotionless, deep pools of nothing that always had Draco recoiling.

“Lucius, you arrived just in time, I think the hearing is to begin here shortly.”

“It’s a good thing Draco didn’t keep us behind schedule more so than he already did.” Lucius said conversationally as he clasped a strong hand on Draco’s shoulder, “It would have been a shame to miss this case.”

“Oh yes,” another man, Walden Macnair, a shorter man who happened to carry a frightening presence in his small and slightly overweight frame, “we don’t get hearings like these as often anymore.”

Draco hadn’t been informed on what the hearing was going to be about, all he knew from his father was that they were hearing a case from someone convicted of a crime and coming up with the sentence. Lucius seemed confident that it would be an easy trial, one that he wanted Draco there for. He couldn’t help but be skeptical of his father, as of recently the man had been dragging him to different events and meetings where he wanted to teach his son a lesson or to understand his place in wizarding society. Nerves threatened to overturn his stomach, he didn’t know what to expect.

Suddenly a chime rang out, indicating for the wizards, and occasional witch, to make their way into the chamber. Lucius had a hand on Draco’s back, keeping him in front of his father so he couldn’t find a way to run off. Draco let his eyes wander, even though his legs desperately wanted to get him far away from here, taking note of how big the room was and the witness stand down below.

The room silenced as everyone got into their seats, an eerie sound that had Draco’s ears ringing from the deafening silence. He glanced over and made eye contact with Vincent and Gregory, who were also accompanying their fathers like himself. The boys seemed much happier to be there than Draco did, which frustrated him even more. He hated being forced into a friendship with them, they were dull and boring and always copied what their parents did. They had no brains for themselves, they were basically puppets.

“The trial shall now begin,” the Chief Warlock spoke up, “bring in the accused.”

The doors below opened dramatically, two aurors entered with their wands aimed at a young man in a rope binding spell. Draco tried to lean forward to get a better look at the man, but Lucius shot him a cold stare, a warning to not step out of line.

“Please state your name for the Wizengamot.” The Chief Warlock demanded, crossing his arms over his desk as he leaned forward.

“Bludgeons, Terry Bludgeons.” The man stuttered, his voice raw and croaky.

It sounded like he’d been crying, Draco realized with a start.

“Mr. Bludgeons, please state your blood status.”

“Why must I do that?” Mr. Bludgeons asked in a quivering voice.

“Please don’t waste our time, state the answers to the Chief Warlock’s question, please.” A Wizengamot member to the Chief’s left spoke up.

Terry Bludgeons seemed to quiver and shake in his boots before he finally relented.

“H-Halfblood, I’m a halfblood. My mum is a halfblood witch and my father was a muggle before he was killed.”

“Marion,” the Chief Warlock turned to his right, “please state the crimes charged against Mr. Bludgeons.”

“Terry Bludgeons is charged with the suspicions of being a Werewolf.”

Draco slammed his mouth shut before the gasp crawling up his throat could escape. An _actual_ werewolf was standing before him! Draco had only heard stories, saying that Werewolves were vicious creatures and that when they are in their human form they still seem inhuman and immoral. Terry Bludgeons was just a young man, probably not even hardly an adult at that; how could he be considered a criminal? 

The list of crimes were read aloud, all of them sounding unfair and a little bit too inaccurate to Draco. It was a horrifying three hours to sit and watch each member of the Wizengamot tear into the young boy, his defense team not able to stand a chance. 

Terry had been bitten when he was twelve, forced to join a pack when a werewolf captured him from his parents. He had tried to escape and seek any sort of medical help he could, trying to find a way to keep living despite his affliction. It wasn’t until he got a job at Tiddle and Potts, a restaurant that many purebloods loved to dine in, that his employer found out about his condition and had him arrested.

Draco’s hands were clenched, his palms screaming in pain from how his nails dug into his skin at the anger that rose in his chest. How could someone who was trying to live their life be considered a criminal and a bad person? It was immoral, completely outrageous and Draco wanted to stand up and scream at every adult at how _idiotic_ they were. Terry didn’t mean to be bitten, to be forced into such a stressful and hated lifestyle! Why was the court committing him for a crime they think he did on purpose?

“Terry Bludgeons you are guilty of all crimes charged against you,” the Chief Warlock announced, “you will be sentenced to ten years in Azkaban.”

“What?!” Draco yelled, his voice drowned out by the sudden chatter that filled the chamber.

A stab of pain jolted Draco’s side, causing him to wince and cry out. He whirled his attention to his father, the man shooting him a deathly, icy look.

“Come along son, we need to attend your lessons.”

Draco shuttered, from the unjust trial he had just witnessed, and the thought of having to endure another one of Lucius Malfoy’s infamous “lessons”.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


December 25th, 1990

“Bill! Stop teasing Ginny, you’re making a ruckus!” Molly Weasley shouted over the loud arguing and shouting her family created.

Ron sat in the corner of the dining room, already done setting the table and unsure what to do. Everyone was shouting, singing, and cheering for Christmas and their presents. It was annoying more than anything, shouting didn’t get anyone anywhere it just caused more chaos! He was trying to ignore George trying to agitate him into a fight, which worked since he was able to just close his eyes and tune everyone out. 

Being the sixth child had its perks but it had more cons than anything. He could be ignored and left to himself if he wanted space, but if he wanted help with something or someone to talk to he was always out of luck. His parents had already experienced the other older siblings and put in all of their energy into raising and focusing on them, they didn’t have time for Ron. 

Ron was also cursed with hand-me-downs and old items of his brothers, he never got anything for himself. He was just another redhead son in the family, expected to be a certain way and to shape up. Ron hated it, he hated how nobody listened to him and didn’t treat him like he mattered.

Christmas dinners were always a noisy affair, full of lively conversation run by the eldest siblings. Bill was the oldest, always being the center of attention for Molly’s motherly tendencies. He always had great stories to tell but never wanted to be in the spotlight, he hated it when their mother would quiz him with questions on his living situations, if he had a girlfriend yet, and if he would consider cutting his hair!

Charlie was just plain odd, he could be quiet and somber one moment, and then the next be jumping in with the twins’ antics. He always had a story to share about the dragons he tended to, mostly having to do with near death experiences that didn’t faze him at all. He could start a debate at the table and have everyone at odds with each other, sitting in the corner smirking evilly at the chaos he created.

Percy was always trying to talk to their father, Arthur. He would question him on his job and ask all sorts of questions pertaining to the ministry and how it worked. Percy wanted to work in the ministry one day, it was the only thing he had ever had a desire for. When Arthur’s attention was divided though, Percy would just sit back and focus on eating and not being wrapped up into a prank with the twins. He was smart and got good marks, everyone was proud of him despite him being so bloody annoying.

There was hardly anything else to say about the twins, they were the physical embodiment of chaos. They always had a prank or two up their sleeves, ready to tease and joke with anyone to get them riled up. It was annoying, Ron couldn’t stand those two when they decided to target him-- which was _all_ _the bloody_ _time_.

Ginny was the only girl, so of course she had attention from Molly and all of her older brothers. She had an innocent facade, but she was a feisty little gremlin inside a nine year old body. She had a way of inflicting pain and defending herself so well that no one would ever know it was her. Ron was always stuck with her, which sucked because she treated him like he was the youngest sibling and not herself.

Ron couldn’t fit in, yet everyone tried to squeeze him into this Weasley-mold. He was nervous for his first year at Hogwarts, more so for the sorting since his entire family (besides Ginny) had been sorted into Gryffindor. He was afraid he wouldn’t live up to those standards, that he would be disowned and looked down upon. At the same time, Ron wanted to stand out. He wanted his parents to just acknowledge and love him like they did to all of his older brothers.

“Ronniekins! Why the long face? Are you preparing yourself for our lovely present for you tomorrow?”

Everybody laughed, even Molly couldn’t hide her laughter behind the firm scowl she usually reserved for the twins. 

_I’m probably just going to get another bloody maroon sweater again…._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


March 15th, 1991

Hermione Granger had always been bullied and made fun of, that she was used to. She didn’t necessarily enjoy it, but she didn’t let it get to her self esteem. She liked to read, to study and learn about anything she could, which got her teased for being a “know-it-all”. But that didn’t mean she would just stop reading in order to avoid the teasing, in fact it actually spurred her on. 

“Mum,” she called as she skipped down the stairs, “can you pack me some extra carrots and dip?”

Joan Granger hid her smile behind her bush of curls, that Hermione had the fortune of inheriting, and grabbed an extra baggy.

“Of course, is this for that boy you’ve been talking about?” She asked, winking at her daughter as she bounded up to the counter.

Despite the flicker of anger at the suggestive nature of her mum's words, Hermione felt more concern for her friend in question.

“Yes, he never eats that much! I hope he enjoys my carrots though.” Hermione frowned, nibbling on her lip worriedly.

“How about I add in an extra rice cake,” Joan suggested, “add a sweet in there to get his attention.”

Hermione’s parents were dentists who discouraged sweets and candies, but treats like rice cakes and fruits were acceptable forms of treats in their eyes. 

“Okay!” Hermione nodded her head, hope blossoming in her chest at the possibility to do good for her new friend, “Maybe he’ll like some fruit too, perhaps?”

“Of course,” Joan agreed, turning to the fridge for the carton of blueberries, “this should be an acceptable snack for him then!”

“Thanks mum!” Hermione jumped down from her stool as she saw the school bus pull up in front of her house.

“Have a good day at school!” Joan shouted as Hermione grabbed her lunch bag and dashed for the front door.

The bus doors opened as Hermione skipped down the driveway and waved at the bus driver. His name was Greg, he was a kind old man who loved chatting to the kids and driving them around. He always favored talking to Hermione though because she could hold an actual conversation and was always very interested in Greg’s stories of travelling through Indonesia and other wonderful countries and places. The older kids would throw such mean and racist jeers at him, but they did that to Hermione too so she would stick by the older man's side so that he didn't have to endure that awfulness alone.

“Hullo, Miss Granger! I fancy the bright yellow you’re wearing today, you look like a ray of sunshine!”

Hermione grinned, saying thank you as she took her seat right next to the front so she could have a conversation about her homework from last night.

“Mr. Greg,” Hermione piped up as the bus took off down the road, “what do you know about meteorology?”

“Oh not that much,” he replied with a hearty chuckle, “it’s been a while since I was your age.”

“We had to read a passage on meteorology last night, it was very fascinating! Did you know that meteorology includes atmospheric chemistry and atmospheric physics with a major focus on weather forecasting? Climatology is the study of atmospheric changes (both long and short-term) that define average climates and their change over time, due to both natural and anthropogenic climate variability. Aeronomy is--”

“Oi! Granger swallowed a dictionary for breakfast!” Someone shouted from the back of the bus.

Hermione clenched her teeth, keeping her focus away from the laughing and teasing of her peers.

“That is very interesting, Hermione,” Greg said in a soft voice, smiling kindly at her, “please continue.”

Hermione smiled through the tears threatening to leak out of her eyes, grateful for someone to be so kind to her back. She finished her description of her homework and how exciting it was to read about before the bus dropped them off at school. Greg thanked her with a pleasant smile on his wrinkled face.

School was quite enjoyable for Hermione, she enjoyed talking with the teachers and making notes. She was best friends with the librarian who allowed her to eat her lunch in the back corner and peruse any selection of books she wanted to. It was nice, to spend the lunch hour in solitude away from the teasing and rude remarks, but Hermione was excited to see the new boy was interested in the library as well. 

He was a social person, already making friends with everyone in their class--yet he would scour the non-fiction section of the library with the same vigor that Hermione had. He seemed nice, even though he was friends with everyone who made fun of her, Hermione couldn’t help but notice how kind he was to all their teachers and the librarian. Her respect for him grew and she wanted to talk to him and understand who he was. 

That’s why she had snacks, the perfect ice breaker.

“Hullo,” she greeted him after spending twenty minutes trying to think of a way to talk to him without sounding stiff and awkward, “do you like blueberries? Did you know that blueberries are ranked number one in antioxidant health benefits in a comparison with more than 40 fresh fruits and vegetables?”

The boy just stared at her for a second, his hand frozen from where he had been fingering the spine of a World War I book, before cracking a grin and relaxing his shoulders.

“You really _are_ a walking encyclopedia.” 

Hermione’s heart dropped and she flushed angrily for a second before his eyes widened and he raised his hands up in surrender.

“Oh no, I didn’t mean that as a joke, it’s just true. It’s cool.” 

“You think I’m _cool_?” Hermione whispered in disbelief.

“Of course! I didn’t know that about blueberries, where’d you read about that?” He asked, leaning against the bookshelf.

Hermione spent the entire lunch period showing him different books and sharing as much information as she could remember off the top of her head. She was grinning the entire time, enthusiastic to have someone to share these facts and findings with someone who genuinely enjoyed them.

They shared her bag of blueberries, rice cakes, and carrots as they looked at different health books. It was the most fun Hermione had ever had with someone her own age, she was too focused to realize that Ben (his full name was Benjamin Smith, he told her) wrapped an arm around her shoulder and had scooted himself into her personal space.

“.....Glucose is the main energy source for your body, but it can't enter the cells of most of your tissues without the help of insulin — a hormone secreted by your pancreas. When glucose levels rise, certain cells (beta cells) in your pancreas release insulin. This allows glucose to enter the cells and--”

Suddenly, mid sentence, Ben planted a kiss on her cheek. Hermione’s stomach plummeted and she scooted away, realizing how close he had gotten into her space.

“Excuse me?!” She exclaimed.

“What? I like you, is that a crime?” He laughed at her like she was the one being weird.

“Well I don’t like you like that!” Hermione was nearly shouting at this point, her heart was racing at how angry she suddenly was.

“Oh you will after you start dating me though.” He winked at her.

She scowled, so frustrated and angry at herself, and at him. All she wanted was a friend, not someone to take advantage of her and who she was. She didn’t want some boy to creepily like her and kiss her, she wanted a companion to bond with and read books with! How dare he assume she would want to date him!

“Please go away, you are rude and aren’t a good friend.” She commanded with as much authority she could channel.

Suddenly Ben was the one scowling. He stood up angrily and glared at her as he grabbed his bag.

“Nobody wants to be your friend, freak.”

Her heart seemed to break at the words, part of her wanting to accept them as truth. But no, Hermione thought angrily, she wasn’t going to allow that _prick_ to define her. Tears dripped down her cheeks as she bounced up to her feet and stormed over to him before he could leave the confines of the library. 

As he opened the door, she slammed her hand against it and stomped on his foot with her heel. She sneered, watching him howl in pain, feeling so much more powerful and mightier than she had ever felt at being bullied and teased in the past.

“I. Am not. A freak.” She spat out, slapping him across the cheek.

“Miss Granger!” The librarian exclaimed. “Back away from Mr. Smith and go to the principal this instant!”

Hermione guiltily hid her face in her bushy curls as she ran from the scene and through the halls. Despite the tears that poured down her cheeks, she was relieved to get her first detention for standing up for herself _finally_.

  
  
  
  
  


July 23rd, 1991

Harry was always prepared for the worst when it came to mornings. Petunia was always in a different mood, but always revolving around one range of emotions: anger. She could be mildly frustrated and just ignore Harry’s presence, she could be pissed off and criticize his every mood, but then she could be entirely not having it and smack him around the kitchen like he was some rag doll. No, she was never violent, she just had a way of making sure Harry stayed out of her way and didn’t ruin anything.

He learned his lessons though, never failing to repeat them again so he wouldn’t be punished in some awful and torturous way. That’s why Harry and Petunia had the best relationship out of the three Dursleys. Dudley just treated Harry like actual garbage, shoving and punching him to his satisfaction. Harry knew what to expect from his cousin, he was quick and smart and could outrun the whale of a boy.

It was Vernon that Harry did his best to shape up around, because if he miscalculated and slipped up he would get the beating or punishment of a lifetime. 

“Oi! Stop sleeping, boy, and get breakfast ready!” Petunia yelled from outside of Harry’s cupboard door, rapping her bony knuckles against the wood.

Harry just wanted to disappear, to fade into the rough fabric of his shabby blanket and not have to deal with Dudley’s birthday. The bullying and punching was always so much worse on his cousins birthday than any other day. It was basically like another birthday present for Dudley to get to beat on Harry with no resistance from anyone.

He finally got up with a groan, sliding his glasses on the brim of his nose and trying to tame his messy hair down. It was an attempt he tried to make everyday to no avail, nothing could tame his hair. He changed into a loose t shirt given to him from Dudley’s castaways and a pair of loose shorts. 

“Did you even attempt to tame your hair?!” Petunia exclaimed shrilly as Harry emerged from the cupboard he was crammed into ever since he was a baby.

“Yes, Aunt Petunia.” He murmured, immediately making a beeline for the oven so he could lose himself in the soothing act of making bacon and eggs.

Petunia tutted to herself, going back to buttering toast and pancakes. Out of all the chores Harry was forced to endure, Harry genuinely enjoyed cooking. He learned so much over the years, knowing how to make omelets, all sorts of sandwiches, bacon, sausage, soups, roast, and even some chicken recipes when Petunia was too busy to focus on dinner.

Harry ignored Dudley stomping down into the kitchen and making a fuss of how many presents he was getting that year, squealing about not having more than last year. Anger coiled tight and hot in Harry’s gut as he listened to the spoiled brat of a cousin of his complain about not getting enough presents.

_That fat pig doesn’t have anything to complain about, he’s not the one crammed into a cupboard and never getting a present once in his life._

The thought immediately made Harry feel guilty, mostly guilty for even feeling that much anger towards someone. But if it had to be anyone that Harry could be furiously enraged with, it was any member of the Dursley’s.

“Vernon, Mrs. Figg can’t take the brat.” Petunia cried, phone in hand.

Dudley began to cry at the mere mention of Harry not being able to be removed from his space for his special day.

“Surely there’s someone who can take him off our hands?!” Vernon roared.

“I’ve already asked in a case like this! Nobody else can!”

“I don’t want him ruining my birthday!” Dudley cried, slumping against the table and getting syrup in his hair.

The rest of the morning was full of arguments and yelling, trying to persuade Dudley that Harry wouldn’t ruin his day if he was forced to join, Harry just had to promise to not be a nuisance and to be completely silent the entire day. Harry begrudgingly accepted the terms, even though he pointed out that he could stay at the house and take care of himself. Vernon didn’t like the idea, figures.

“Listen here, boy,” Vernon corned Harry against the side of the car, “no funny business or you will be locked in your cupboard for a week!”

Despite the fear Harry felt, he knew what the punishment was and would do everything not to endure it.

“I promise.” Harry muttered as he was finally released to get into the car.

Harry kept his mouth shut as Dudley and his friend (Harry didn’t care to remember the prick’s name) joked around and tried to get on Harry’s nerves by punching and prodding him. He stared resolutely out the window and watched the trees and buildings fly by. He didn’t mention anything about the flying motorcycle he saw in his dream when a motorcyclist cut Vernon off, he knew what the comment would warrant out of his uncle; Vernon would yell about “oddities” and how “impossible” it was for a motorcycle to fly. Harry knew better and kept his mouth shut.

He kept to himself the entire day, watching how the Dursley’s acted like any normal family. It was painful to watch, to see how lovingly Petunia cared for her son and how Vernon would talk to and answer all of Dudley’s inane questions. Harry forced himself not to get angry, whenever he had strong emotional responses things _happened_.

Harry wasn’t stupid, the weird oddities that happened around him _had_ to be caused by him. He was so scared when he ended up on top of the school roof when Dudley and his gang had been chasing him, he had been so upset when Petunia buzzed his hair off and it grew back overnight, and he had been angry when Dudley stole his homework and ended up with big oozing blisters all over his skin.

He couldn’t have _anything_ out of sorts happening today of all days. Harry didn’t understand what _it_ was, all he knew was to acknowledge it. _Maybe it’s some sort of phase? Like puberty or something?_

It wasn’t until they got to the reptile house that Harry slipped up. Dudley had run up to a big encasement of a snake lounging on a rock. He banged and pounded his fat fists against the glass, yelling at the poor creature to do something. 

Immediately Dudley’s attention was caught by another creature and the Dursley’s followed after him, leaving Harry to stare sadly at the python.

“I’m sorry you had to deal with him,” Harry murmured, pressing a hand up to the glass. “He’s a prick all the time, but an abnormally awful one today of all days.”

Harry sighed, realizing how insane he probably looked, talking to a snake.

“I know how it feels, to be trapped in a cage and not able to get out.” Harry’s shoulders sagged at the thought. “I’m sorry you can’t be with your family. I can’t either, they’re all dead.”

_I am sorry, Speaker_

Harry jolted at the sudden hissing voice, eerily coming from the snake in front of him. He whipped his head behind him, seeing if anyone else reacted like he did to the voice.

“Did you just speak to me?” Harry asked, peering curiously at the snake who had shifted and moved so it was face to face with him.

_Of course, I haven’t spoken to a human in so long_

“I’m sorry,” Harry stammered, glancing over his shoulder to gauge where Dudley’s attention was caught. “I wish I could help you. I didn’t know I could speak to snakes before this.”

_You are okay, Speaker. Come and visit me more often, I get incredibly lonely_

Harry nodded his head before joining the Dursley’s towards where the butterfly exhibit was. He didn’t get in trouble for cursing the glass away and trapping Dudley behind it, he was careful and smart as he quietly sat back and let the Dursley’s believe they were in control.

  
  



	2. The Sorting Ceremony (aka, a fair sorting and not biased towards one house *cough* *cough* Gryffindor)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our four eleven year old's are sorted into their houses, even happening to make some unlikely friends along the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for the lovely response! I've been so excited to publish this chapter for you guys, even though I kept wanting to rewrite it because I'm indecisive and picky!!  
> I want to try and update on Sundays, so that way I can work on future chapters during the week and also put some time into my other projects as well! I'm a busy, working woman but I am blessed to have weekends free and open for you all!  
> Anyways, here's the first official chapter! Feel free to leave suggestions/comments below!

September 1st, 1991

  
  


Draco winced in pain as he made his way into an empty compartment and shut the blinds. He had kept up the mask of indifference all morning in front of his family and the crowd in front of the train station, but now that he was behind closed doors he could finally let out the groan of pain that had been building inside. His face hurt from where Lucius had inflicted one of his “lessons” after Draco had accidentally swung a bludger through his father’s office window. 

He grabbed the pocket mirror his mother had gifted him and waved away the glamor on his face, grimacing at the large purple bruise that was forming over his right eye. Lucius hardly ever resorted to such muggle ways of violence, but he had been furious with Draco all of last week in the build up to his first day at Hogwarts. 

Draco was nervous, he fidgeted in his seat, trying to distract himself by the view outside his window. Lucius always forbade Draco from fidgeting, from being anxious and expressing how he felt. It was a relief to be able to relax his shoulders and take his anger out on his seat with his heels. The tall buildings of London quickly morphed to greenery and wildlife of the countryside as the train rushed along to it’s designated stop in Scotland. Draco always enjoyed travelling, especially seeing the rush of colors and movement pass before his eyes.

The door to his compartment suddenly opened and a girl with the curliest, darkest hair peered in, smiling at him bashfully.

“Hullo, do you mind if I sit here? Everyone I’ve tried to sit with hasn’t really enjoyed my company…”

Scrunching his eyebrows in confusion, he nodded for her to come inside. Her smile grew even wider, her dark eyes sparkling with the effect of her relief at having a place to sit. 

“I was getting worried for a second there, the last compartment I went into were the rudest of sorts!”

This caught his attention, with a smirk he turned towards her and allowed his eyes to take in everything about her. She was definitely muggleborn from the looks of it, what with her lack of a robe and the skittishness in how she carried herself.

“You’re going to see that a lot unfortunately.” 

Confusion flitted across her face as she tilted her head in question.

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re muggleborn, you’re going to be at a disadvantage compared to other purebloods coming in for our first year.” Draco focused on kicking his seat again, his nervous energy picking up with a fervor.

“I’ve heard that phrase, muggleborn, that’s what I am right?” Hermione asked, frowning as Draco nodded his head. “Is that a bad thing here?”

Sitting up straighter, Draco surveyed her. She had a bag full of books, each of their spines reading off different sorts of wizarding texts; arithmancy, pureblood customs, wizarding culture, history texts, and potions and spell books. She was leaning forward, elbows on her knees as she peered at him. She was attentive and trying to understand as much as she could. 

If Lucius were here, he’d sneer that she was a useless mudblood, that she didn’t deserve to be a student at Hogwarts. But this girl had to have enough magic in her to be admitted here amongst all of the wizarding kind. She seemed willing to learn and desperate for a chance to fit in.

“What’s your name again?” Draco asked, leaning casually against the wall, arm slung over his knee.

“Hermione Granger, and you are?”

“Draco,” He smirked, thrusting his hand forward, “Draco Malfoy. You are going to hear a load of rubbish about me and my family, pay it no mind.”

“And why is that, Draco?”

“I am not my father.” He kicked the seat with a final, swift kick.

  
  
  
  
  


Ron was positively bursting at the seams to be in the same compartment as Harry Potter. He hadn’t believed the twins when they announced having met him, they were always wanting to tease and trick him into believing whatever they could come up with. Ron was unfortunately used to just ignoring anything really that came out of the twins’ separate mouths, it would just get him in trouble.

But he was glad to have stumbled across the right compartment, Harry Potter wasn’t like what everyone made him out to be. If he was being honest with himself, Ron thought the bloke would be a little bit self conceited and full of himself. But Harry was just another regular kid, with a wicked sense of humor. 

Harry was quiet and liked to listen to Ron blabber on about his family and the wizarding world. His green eyes were always darting about, checking everything around him like he was a scared animal. Ron immediately felt at ease and tried to persuade the boy in front of him to calm down by being as friendly as possible and definitely not mentioning the scar like how he desperately wanted to.

“So, what’s your family like?” He bit into his ham sandwich, happy that his mum actually remembered to make him one that morning.

Harry didn’t say anything for a second, just gave him a weird look. Ron was about to change the conversation when Harry finally answered. 

“They’re okay,” Harry murmured, playing with the hem of his extremely large shirt, “for an aunt and uncle, they could definitely try and be much better though.”

Frowning, Ron didn’t know what to say. He had the distinct impression that Harry’s home life wasn’t that great. An uneasy feeling had settled in his stomach as he had first began talking to Harry, Ron had learned from the past to always pay attention to that gut feeling; it always seemed to work in his favor when he listened to it.

“I know I haven’t known you long, mate,” he gulped, worried that he’d say the wrong thing, “but are your aunt and uncle treating you right?”

With a jolt, Harry whirred his body around and faced Ron, his eyes wide and confused.

“Why do you ask?” He sounded defensive and scared, Ron realized.

“I don’t want to get you in trouble or even insinuate anything, but I don’t think most kids our age have bruises like that around our wrists.”

Harry immediately shoved his sleeves down, scowling down at the dirty floor of the compartment. Ron didn’t know what to say, he hadn’t ever met anyone who came from a bad living situation. He had heard his mum talk about a girl she knew growing up who had been abused by her father, but Ron hadn’t ever wanted to believe that it was common. Especially for The-Boy-Who-Lived! He had endured so much, his parents dying, facing He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, not knowing about magic, and now abusive family members. Ron couldn’t help the wave of anger that filled his gut, he leaned forward and tenderly placed an arm on the boy’s shoulder.

Harry jolted at the touch, but it didn’t deter Ron’s touch, he continued to sit close to the boy and wait for him to speak.

“Nobody ever believed me,” Harry finally croaked out, “You can understand why I would be hesitant to even speak about this with you, right?”

Ron nodded his head, intent on listening to his new friend.

“They never wanted me, I was just a kid tossed on their doorstep and they couldn’t just give me to an orphanage. I did their chores, cooked their breakfast, and pruned their garden just in order to live there and eat. I guess this is the first time I’ve ever been hopeful for something, that my life could change.”

Ron suddenly leaned forward and wrapped his arms around the boy, intent on ensuring him that he cared and wanted to be there.

  
“I’m sorry, Harry,” he whispered, parting from the bewildered boy, “I’ll make sure you have the time of your life at Hogwarts. Want to be my friend?”

The grin he got in return was worth the uncomfortable silence they had endured moments prior.

  
  
  
  
  


Hermione was aware of the looks she got as she walked side by side with Draco. He had warned her, but she hadn’t thought it would be this bad! She had always been the butt of everyone’s jokes, teased and bullied whenever possible, but these kids full on sneered and spat at Draco as he walked by-- yet he didn’t flinch or blink an eye.

“How can you be so calm?!” Hermione finally hissed in his ear as they got into a boat to take to the great big castle looming in the distance.

“Oh I’m not calm,” Draco muttered, plopping himself down and immediately bouncing his knee up and down frantically, “I just can’t afford to show a reaction right now.”

“And why’s that?” Hermione questioned as two dark haired boys gestured towards their boat.

“Because I want to prove a point.” Draco smirked, nodding his head at the kids who walked up to them. “Theo, Blaise, nice to see you two.”

“Evening Draco,” one of the boys greeted, plopping down next to Draco and extending a hand to Hermione, “who’s your friend?”

“Hermione Granger.” Hermione shook his hand, “and you are?”

“Blaise Zabini,” the boy grinned, “oh Draco, Pansy is making her way over here, thought I’d let you know.”

Draco banged the back of his head against the boat, groaning as Hermione glanced over and watched as a dark haired girl speed walked up to them.

“Draco! Why didn’t you respond to my owl?!”

“I was in lessons with my father.” Draco whirled his wand and suddenly revealed a large bruise around his eye before vanishing it as quick as he showed it.

“Draco!” Hermione exclaimed, leaning forward as Pansy jumped into the boat and immediately grabbed Draco’s face and made the bruise reappear. “Why didn’t you say anything?!”

“Couldn’t,” Draco muttered between Pansy’s hands smothering his cheeks. “Couldn’t afford anyone to see, like right now Pans!”

Pansy huffed in indignation and collapsed back into her seat beside the other nameless boy and Hermione.

“What’s your name?” Pansy suddenly leaned towards Hermione, scowling at her as she raked her eyes up and down her frame.

“Hermione Granger, I’m assuming your Pansy?”

“Pansy Parkinson, at your service.” Pansy winked. “This is Theodore Nott, he’s antisocial and hates meeting new people, don’t mind him.”

Theodore nodded his head at Hermione before ducking his head back down to the floorboards of the boat.

“So Hermione,” Pansy spoke up as the boats started to move, the great big man named Hagrid leading the group of first years down the lake, “what house you think you’ll be in?”

“Oh I don’t know,” Hermione blanched, fidgeting with her fingers, “I don’t want to have a big idea of it, I’d rather the house just pick it for me.”

“That’s such a Hufflepuff response.” Blaise snorted.

Everyone laughed, making Hermione frown.

“Well I guess that’s sorted then, I wouldn’t want to be anything less than myself.” Hermione puffed her chest out, feeling proud of herself.

Draco stared at her, a dark look in his eyes as silence wrapped around the group of five. The sound of the Longbottom kid crying about his toad was all that filled the air as Hermione waited for Draco to speak up about what was on his mind.

“That’s very admirable,” he croaked out, “I respect that Hermione.”

His friends all shared knowing glances, the awkward silence heavy as a blanket as it hung over them.

“Your name is a mouthful,” Pansy finally spoke up, “can I call you ‘Mione?”

Hermione found herself laughing at the suddenness of the request, nodding her head as Blaise sparked up a conversation about their Charms textbook.

  
  
  


Harry couldn’t believe this was all real. He was walking up the steep steps of an actual castle where he would learn how to wield his own magic. This was the very same school his parents attended and hoped for him to walk the same halls, it was all so overwhelming and unreal that Harry was fighting back tears.

“You all good mate?” Ron whispered at his side.

Harry could only nod, the lump in his throat prevented him from spilling out everything he was thinking. He couldn’t believe he wasn’t forced in his cupboard and attending that stupid secondary school the Dursley’s had wanted him to attend. He finally had answers to all the questions that had filled his mind for years.

He also had his first real friend, someone who cared and didn’t mind about his family and seemed concerned with how he grew up. Ron was nice, Harry desperately wanted to be friends with him.

They made their way through the entrance hall of the castle, a great big chandelier hung above their heads, glistening and spreading light spots all over the walls and portraits that hung above them. Harry blinked several times, shocked to see that the portraits actually  _ moved.  _ Each member of the portraits peered down at them, whispering in interest amongst each other-- some judging and some curious.

“This is incredible!” Harry whispered to Ron, grinning at the magic that surrounded them.

“I know right!” Ron whispered back, “this is the biggest room I’ve ever seen!”

“Are all castles like this?” 

“I don’t think so,” Ron scrunched his brow, “I’ve never been in any other castle, my family and I live in a shabby house that isn’t even half this size!”

Harry knew that Ron’s home was much better than his tiny cupboard.

Hagrid led them up a set of stairs and finally in front of a large set of doors, where a tall and stern looking woman stood there eyeing them all. Palms now sweating, Harry realized how nervous he suddenly was. He had read through all of his textbooks in that last month of summer and nowhere did it say what the Sorting ceremony consisted of. There wasn’t even a good description of the houses themselves!

“Welcome to Hogwarts,” the woman spoke up, silencing the chatter of the other first years around them, “The start-of-term banquet will be starting shortly, but before you are seated for the feast, you all must be sorted into your respective houses

“There is Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin,” at the mention of the last house, whispers rose up through the crowd, “you will sleep in the same dormitories as your House, go to classes and make friends with them as well.”

The woman (“Professor Mcgonagall, is what Fred and George said her name was.” Ron whispered to him) kept speaking about the Houses and what would be expected of them now that they were beginning their classes. She disappeared behind the large front doors with a reminder to be ready when she came back for them.

“What do you think the sorting ceremony will consist of?” Harry questioned Ron, who was also looking equally confused.

“I’m not sure, mate,” Ron shrugged, “but it shouldn’t be anything too dangerous. My brothers were all sorted and they unfortunately survived, so we should be okay.”

To distract himself, Harry glanced around him, taking note of the other students around him. They all gave him curious looks, glancing up at where his scar hid behind his fringe, making him feel uncomfortable and slightly angry. Whispers tore through the crowd, making his stomach churn more and more so nervously.

_ “....I hope I don’t get in Slytherin, that’s where all the evil ones get into….” _

Ron straightened his shoulders, glaring over Harry’s shoulder at whoever had whispered near them.

“You know,” he spoke to Harry, loud enough for others to hear, “my parents lie all the time to me, about all sorts of stuff. I’m sure their opinions on the houses are one of them, alright mate?” He placed a hand on Harry’s shoulder gently, smiling knowingly.

The anxiety that was rushing through him eased at his friend’s words, he was so grateful for Ron choosing to befriend him.

“Thanks Ron.” He whispered as McGonagall came back for them.

“No worries mate, I know you’re a good person regardless of what people think.”

  
  
  
  


Hermione should have been more nervous, but with Pansy’s constant chatter and Draco’s calming presence she felt strangely at ease. She had been conversing with Blaise the entire time they had walked through the castle, sharing information and listening to what Blaise had to say about wizarding culture. He was great to talk to, just as passionate about reading and learning as she was--it was invigorating!

“Draco,” she whispered to the blonde, tuning out Pansy as she giggled at something Theo had said, “what if I  _ do _ get into Hufflepuff?”

He looked at her in confusion, folding his arms across his chest.

“What of it?”

“Would you still talk to me?” She asked, timidly.

His shoulders stiffened at first, but after a beat of silence his posture relaxed and his sharp grey eyes softened.

“Of course, Granger, I need to be friends with someone of the same intellectual capacity as myself.”

The happiness that suddenly flooded her body was overwhelming. She grinned so brightly, she was sure her face would tear in two. This was so different than that time she had tried to befriend that bloke, Benjamin Smith-- Draco wasn’t going to take advantage of her, he genuinely seemed to like her.

“Corner, Michael!” McGonagall called out after explaining she would call their names and seat themselves on the stool facing the entire room of waiting older students.

“Where do you think you’ll end up?” Hermione asked Draco, “Be honest with me and not some vague, stupid response!”

Draco chuckled, relaxing his shoulders.

“I don’t think I’ve ever outright said it before.” He gulped, suddenly looking nervous.

“It’s alright,” Hermione assured, frowning in worry. “Is it because of your dad?” She whispered.

He didn’t have to respond, his silence spoke volumes as he scratched his neck uncomfortably.

“Granger, Hermione!” McGonagall suddenly shouted, jerking Hermione out of her conversation.

“I guess you’ll have to wait and see.” Draco winked.

She scowled, punching his arm as she moved through the crowd and plopped herself down on the stool. As McGonagall placed the large, brown, tattered hat on top of her head, Hermione was suddenly aware of the entire hall silencing and a voice spoke through her mind.

_ Interesting, interesting indeed _

‘What’s interesting?’ Hermione thought at the voice in her head.

_ You have quite the intriguing mind, Miss Granger. You are thirsty for knowledge and crave to learn everything, yet you carry so much empathy and loyalty inside of you. Where would you see yourself going? _

‘I thought you were supposed to tell me!’ Hermione thought nervously.

_ Oh I can, I am just curious as to your response. _

‘Well,’ Hermione thought long and hard on her response, ‘I guess I would want to go where I am included, where what I value is embraced and encouraged. I want to learn and to be as genuine in who I am as I can I guess.’

_ Alright then, I believe I have made a decision, my dear. _

Biting her lip in anticipation, she ran a sweaty hand down her skirt and waited with bated breath.

_ I think you will do well in  _ HUFFLEPUFF!

The voice of the hat roared outside of her head, announcing her fate to the entire great hall. The table full of yellow robes and scarves stood up and cheered loudly, smiles brightening their faces. With a kick in her step, Hermione bounded down the stairs and joined her new house, sitting right next to a girl with pigtails and an endearing smile.

“Hullo! I’m Hannah! You’re Hermione?”

Shaking the girl’s hand in greeting, Hermione nodded her head and settled into her seat, glancing around her at all the smiling faces around her.

“Yeah! Nice to meet you, Hannah!”

“I love your hair by the way,” Hannah gushed, “it’s absolutely gorgeous!”

All throughout primary school, she got teased for having naturally, curly hair. Her hair tended to grow into an afro around her head, a mess of curls that were hard to tame. She had never actually been complimented on her natural hairstyle, hearing a wonderful comment had her cheeks flushing and relief flooding her system. She knew instantly, even though she was still getting used to the newness of everything, that this was the right place for her to be.

  
  
  


Draco grinned and clapped for Hermione, glad that he had guessed that one right.To most people, they would have immediately assumed the curly haired girl would land herself in Ravenclaw, what with her love of learning and books. But Draco had seen the warm glint in her eyes, the kindness that hung around her gracefully. 

He shifted awkwardly, aware that he was still getting dirty and weird looks for clapping for some common muggleborn girl. He didn’t care though, everything was changing tonight anyways.

“Do you think your father will disown you?” Blaise muttered next to him.

He couldn’t help but stiffen at the thought, the spike of fear that had his blood running cold.

“I think he knows that this was going to happen,” Draco shifted uncomfortably, “whether he liked it or not.”

“Just know, Draco,” Pansy slided up to his side, “no matter what we will still be your friends. We’ve all grown up together, once a snake always a snake, am I right?”

His lip wobbled at the kind words.

“If I didn’t know any better, that was a Hufflepuff comment there, Pans.” He teased, giggling as the girl punched his arm playfully.

“Don’t you ever say that again!” She exclaimed, earning them a glare from an older Ravenclaw student next to them.

“Malfoy, Draco!”

Pansy grasped Draco’s hand as Blaise settled a strong hand on his shoulder, even Theo smiled encouragingly at him.

“Thanks guys.” He whispered through the lump in his throat.

He ignored the hissing and whispers, intent on getting to the stool and getting this over with. The hat was lowered on his head and his view of the great hall vanished, relief flooding his system as everything silenced around him and the Hat’s voice spoke in the back of his mind.

_ You are quite the enigma, Mr. Malfoy _

‘I’ve heard that quite a bit actually…’ Draco chuckled to himself.

_ Well, with that said, I don’t think we need to draw this out too long. We both know where you belong. _

‘Yes please, this is so painful to bear.’

_ Alright young Draco, I wish you the most luck going forward in  _ GRYFFINDOR!

The entire hall silenced as the hat was torn off his head. McGonagall stared at him in shock before morphing her face into a neutral look, nodding at him knowingly.

“I look forward to seeing you in my house, Malfoy.”

He nodded his head at her and kept his head down, trying to ignore the looks he was getting. As he stepped down the stairs, someone started clapping. He whipped his head up and grinned at Hermione, who was standing up on her bench and beaming at him. The other Gryffindors took the hint and cheered amicably for him.

He took a seat next to an older student, probably one of the Weasley’s, trying to ignore the harsh looks of his fellow first years.

“You know, Draco,” the older prefect next to him spoke up suddenly, surprising everyone as the sorting continued, “did you know that I argued with the hat not to put me in Slytherin?”

Mouth wide in shock, Draco shook his head no before grinning at the distraction the boy created for him.

“Really, Perce?!” The twin redheads across the table from them exclaimed. “You could have been a slimy little snake?!”

“Yes and there’s nothing wrong with that, isn’t there?” Percy Weasley spoke up, puffing his chest out.

“Of course not!” One of the twins yelled.

“Didn’t know you had it in ya, Percy!” The other teased with a wink.

“Of course not, you both are dim witted as usual.”

Draco grinned, glad for the distraction and for the hat finally putting the line in the sand between his father and himself.

  
  
  
  


Harry had noticed the mean comments and whispers spreading like wildfire about the blonde boy, evidently named Draco Malfoy. Everyone was so sure on where he’d end up, that even Harry was blindsided when the hat shouted out  _ GRYFFINDOR _ . The group that had been hanging right next to him all cheered as the boy walked to his new, respective house. 

Harry watched as one of them, Theodore Nott, was sorted into Slytherin and Pansy Parkinson joined him. Nervousness filled his gut again, like cement weighing his insides down and choking him from the inside out. Ron had been talking into his ear the entire time, but he must have noticed how words weren’t doing a thing to calm Harry down, because he finally just slipped an equally clammy hand into Harry’s and gripped it hard.

The two boys were both nervous, grasping each other like their lives depended on it.

“Potter, Harry!”

The entire room was suddenly filled with noise and heads whipping around to try and catch a glance of him. It felt like Harry’s feet were suddenly rooted to the ground, unable to move forward.

“No matter what house you’re in, Harry,” Ron spoke up through the din of voices, “we will still be friends. I promise, do you?”

Harry gulped and nodded his head, squeezing Ron’s hand in response. He finally was able to move, the crowd of students parting before him. He scowled, keeping his head down as he walked up the steps and sat down on the stool.

A sudden wave of peace settled over him as the great hall vanished before his eyes and silence enveloped him, blocking out the noise of the hall before him.

_ Well hello, Mr. Potter, interesting mind you have, very very interesting indeed. _

_ ‘ _ Hullo, what do you mean by interesting?’

_ You have a thirst to prove yourself, yet a heart of gold and bravery. But your ambition to prove yourself outweighs it all. You would absolutely thrive in Slytherin, Mr. Potter. _

‘If I go into Slytherin, they will eviscerate me.’ Harry thought glumly.

_ You will have many friends to surround yourself with, Mr. Potter. Snakes take care of their own, you will thrive amongst them. _

‘I guess that settles it then, huh?’

_ Of course, I am proud to sort you into  _ SLYTHERIN!

The entire hall went silent for a second time that evening. Harry stood up as the hat was lifted off his head, catching Hagrid’s gaze from the professor’s table. The giant man grinned encouragingly at him, nodding his head as Harry smiled in appreciation.

To his great surprise, it was Draco Malfoy who cheered first. Followed after him was Ron who roared with applause, followed by his array of brothers. Finally Slytherin house stood up and properly welcomed him to their table with modest applause.

The boy Theo nodded politely to him and gestured for him to sit down next to him.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Harry Potter, I’m Theodore Nott.” He greeted, offering his hand as Harry settled in next to the brunette girl.

“Nice to meet you Theodore, I'm Harry but you already knew that.”

Theodore and the girl chuckled at his joke, shaking his hand enthusiastically.

“It’s a good thing you have a sense of humor, Golden Boy, or else I would have requested to be sorted into Hufflepuff.”

“You wouldn’t dare!” The girl exclaimed dramatically. “I'm Pansy Parkinson, nice to meet you Harry.”

“Nice to meet you, Pansy.” Harry shook her hand as well, letting his shoulders relax as he caught Ron’s eyes across the hall, earning a giant smile and a thumbs up in return.

“I see you’ve befriended the Weasel,” Theodore drawled, “think he’s going into Gryffindor with the rest of his big family?”

“Oh no,” Harry laughed, “he definitely won’t.”

“What makes you so sure, Potter?” Pansy inquired.

“If I ended up here, Ron will  _ not _ follow his family just to fit in.”

  
  
  


Ron wasn’t as nervous anymore. He had watched Percy talking with Malfoy, a proud grin on his brother’s face as he talked to the blonde. Ron had always had his suspicions that Percy shouldn’t have ended up in Gryffindor, he was way too intelligent and slightly stuck up for the reckless house that was Gryffindor.

“Weasley, Ronald!”

Ron groaned at his full name, knowing for sure that that loud cackle of laughter was the twins. He trudged up the stairs to the stool and sat down hesitantly. The hat was placed over his red hair and blocking his view of the hall and the teasing smirks of the twins.

_ Well now, this is pretty queer. _

‘Oh I’m queer now? What else am I?’ Ron scowled inwardly.

_ Oh anything but, Ron, you have a mind that is torn between houses. You have a thirst to prove yourself, yet you have an understanding and loyalty to those close to you, but that wit and intelligence runs slightly higher. You have a creative mind, a thirst for independence that cries so loudly. _

‘So what are you saying?’

_ I think you have a mind fit for Ravenclaw, my dear boy. _

‘Ravenclaw?! But I am  _ not _ smart at all!’

_ Oh Mr. Weasley, you are too smart! Ravenclaw isn’t the house for just the smart ones, yes it values intelligence, but that doesn’t mean educational intelligence, dear boy. You value intelligence around you, of understanding people and how things work. I think you will thrive quite brilliantly in this house, dear boy. _

‘I will get teased by my brothers for this, they are all in Gryffindor!’ Ron groaned, realizing he was about to become a hat-stall.

_ You aren’t the first Weasley I wanted to put in a house other than Gryffindor, dear boy. _

‘Fine,’ Ron huffed, ‘I guess put me there, if that’s where you think is best.’

_ Of course, Mr. Weasley, you will do great in  _ RAVENCLAW!

For the third time that night, the entire hall went silent. But from the Slytherin side of the room, a cheer echoed against the vast silence. Ron grinned at Harry, proud that he had such a supportive friend already. His brothers finally stood up and began to cheer, despite his past beliefs it seemed that they actually cared about him and where he would end up.

  
  
  



	3. Prejudices Don't Just Go Away Apparently :/

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Our four first years tackle their first set of classes and make some friends along the way.

As soon as the euphoria of being sorted and fitting in with a group of kids his age, Harry’s good mood went down hill immediately as he stepped foot out of the Slytherin common room with Blaise and Theo in tow. A group of fifth year Hufflepuffs walked by and immediately tried to send a curse at Theo’s feet to trip him up. Books flew everywhere and ink splattered across the tiles in a heap as Theo tumbled forward and smacked his nose against the ground.

“Theo!” Harry shouted, trying to stop his fall too late.

Blaise shot a dirty look at the fifth years, who were already scurrying away like nothing happened, before turning and grabbing Theo’s supplies before other students could stomp all over them.

“I-I’m alright,” Theo’s voice was warbled with pain as he sat up, revealing a face full of blood streaming down from his nose, “I’ve had worse.”

Harry himself had had worse, but this didn’t compare to the times when Dudley had succeeded in cornering him and punching his gut a couple times for fun; this was an incident started by wizards who were supposed to be from the house that favored kindness! Anger rose like bile in the back of his throat as he lifted Theo up and propped him up at his side.

“We need to get your nose checked out, it looks like it could be broken.” Harry assessed as Blaise succeeded in rounding up the stray books and a cleaning spell for the ink. “Blaise, where did you say the infirmary was?”

“Oh my!” A voice startled the three Slytherins out of their shock. “Are you alright, Theo?!”

Harry turned to see a girl with the curliest afro he’d ever seen dash towards them. She was a first year like them, but she was wearing Hufflepuff robes. Harry felt his shackles rise up as the girl strode forward, he didn’t know who to trust now that a group of Hufflepuff’s had already ruined their first morning of classes.

“‘M alrigh’ Granger,'' Theo slurred, trying to prop his head back so no blood dripped onto his uniform. “Jus’ need the infirmary.”

“Let me join you, I can help carry some of his books, Blaise.” The girl, Granger, turned towards Blaise.

“I think we’ve had enough help from your house already, thanks.” Harry spat, unable to control the anger boiling in his gut.

The Granger girl had the audacity to look genuinely upset, tears forming in her dark eyes as she finally glanced up at Harry.

“It’s alright, Harry,” Blaise assured him, sending him a warning look, “Hermione is fine, she’s not like those arseholes who did this to Theo.”

“Are you saying people in my house did this to you, Theo?!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Yeah, but it’s no use making a fuss about it,” Blaise muttered as he passed off a stack of books into Hermione’s hands, “no one will believe the Slytherins.”

“Now that’s unfair! Surely a teacher should understand! That’s what they are here for, right?” Hermione was almost yelling as the three Slytherins started to make their way towards the infirmary.

“You’ll find that the wizarding world isn’t that different from the muggle one you grew up in, Granger. You were saying that the muggle world struggles with racism against people of color, like ourselves, but here in the wizarding world it’s the equivalent of muggleborns and Slytherins.”

“Why is that?!” Hermione and Harry both exclaimed, giving each other dirty looks.

“I didn’t want to have to tell you this,” Blaise muttered, looking uncomfortable at the subject, “but it’s been believed that pureblood wizards and witches are better than those breeded with muggles. Some families and individuals believe that magic should be kept within magical people, that having muggle blood in the family taints your ability to perform magic. Many families who are sorted into Slytherin believe this ideology.” 

“Do _you_ believe that?” Hermione thundered, her face red with anger.

“I don’t know what to think,” Blaise said honestly, stopping as they turned a corner to really look at Hermione, “until yesterday, I had been raised to view muggleborns as beneath me. But with meeting you two,” he looked between Harry and Hermione, “I want to know the facts from an unbiased standpoint, not one my mother and the society I grew up in raised me to believe.”

“So why the sudden change of heart? I’m just an ordinary muggleborn witch!” Hermione was shouting at this point.

“Because of Draco!” Blaise snapped, his shoulders tensing at his outburst. “Growing up, Theo, Pansy, and I were all close with Draco and his family. It was obvious he was being abused by his father, but everyone’s fathers in our society occasionally distilled violence on their children to shape and discipline them.

“But it got out of hand when Theo and I were there to witness Lucius actually hitting Draco. It was _awful_ and from that day forth we all vowed to be there for each other, to really understand why our parents treated us this way and to learn for ourselves. We have all had discussions about pureblood ideology but we never went into depth about it because we never knew a muggleborn witch or wizard.”

Blaise stalked forward, gingerly taking Hermione’s shaking hands.

“But when I met you with Draco, I knew he trusted you in some regard. You’re smart and willing to learn everything you can about our world, I know that you can prove yourself. So I trust you to prove to me that our ideology is wrong and unjust.”

Harry was speechless, he didn’t know what to say as Hermione cried out and launched herself into Blaise’s arms. Ron had glossed over the facts that Blaise had just shared, but he didn’t know it was such a huge deal that would potentially affect him as well!

“As touching as this all is,” Theo suddenly spoke up, “I am in a great deal of pain, can we carry along now?”

Laughter bubbled up Harry’s throat and spilled forth as Blaise and Hermione parted. 

“Sure thing, Theo, don’t want you dying of blood loss on us.”

“Damn right, Zabini.”

“I’m sorry,” Harry spat out as Hermione came up next to him, “I was a bit defensive and shouldn’t have taken my anger out on you.”

Hermione sized him up, her dark eyes piercing into his own and taking him all in. It was almost agonizing to be under her scrutiny, to see all of that fury and rage she kept locked inside her innocent facade. But she smiled finally, her eyes warming up like milk chocolate and honey as she thrusted a hand forward.

“You are forgiven, I’m Hermione Granger, and you are?”

“Harry Potter.” He grinned, shaking her hand enthusiastically.

  
  


~~~~

“Alright there Ron?” Michael Corner’s voice echoed from the other side of the dormitory.

Ron groaned and sat up, blinking away the sleep from his eyes.

“Yeah, just getting used to waking up this bloody early.” He grumbled, swinging his legs over the side and stretching.

With an encouraging laugh, Michael crossed the room and began to get dressed, giving Ron the privacy to grab his toiletries and head for the shower. He groaned as he left the dormitory to see a line snaking around through the common room from the boys bathroom.

_I’m going to have to get up much earlier for this shit,_ Ron dragged a hand down his face and shuffled back into the bedroom.

“You saw the line, eh?” Michael laughed.

“I’ll just shower later, not like I’m particularly dirty anyways.” Ron said with a grunt as he leaned down and began getting dressed.

“Ron,” Terry Boot, a shy looking boy with glasses spoke up, “why were you sorted into Ravenclaw, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Freezing with trepidation, Ron didn’t know what to say. A lot of the students in Ravenclaw were all pretty smart. He had fallen asleep last night as the boys in his dormitory started quizzing each other on their potions texts vigorously. He immediately felt left out, still unsure why he was in this house if he couldn’t fit in with blokes like them.

“I don’t know,” Ron said honestly, looking up at them sheepishly, “it’s where the hat told me to go.”

The boys didn’t say anything, just nodded their heads and went about their business. Ron let his shoulders relax, maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal and he had just been anxious about his place at Hogwarts. He pulled his tie on and took his time studying himself in the mirror. He had always seen himself going into Gryffindor, where the red and gold would clash horribly with his red hair and complexion, where he would have to deal with his brothers antics away from home, and never be able to define himself from that Weasley mold he had grown up in.

But standing here now, the blue of his tie and the crest on his robes looked good on him. He couldn’t help but puff out his chest, admiring how he looked and what he could do on his own in Ravenclaw. He fixed his hair, unable to do anything about the blinding red and curls he got from his father’s side, and strode out into the common room. 

As he skipped down the steps, a body suddenly collided with his own. His arms shot out and grabbed onto the person from tumbling over the rail just in time. It was a girl with dark eyes and complexion, her face paled in shock at how close she had been to snapping her neck.

“I’m so sorry for bumping into you, I wasn’t looking where I was going.” Ron apologized profusely.

The girl flushed bright red as she parted from Ron, grabbing the textbooks that had flown out of her hands in the altercation.

“No it was my fault, I was too busy daydreaming to pay attention.”

“How about we agree to disagree and just shake hands on it?” He extended his hand, blushing bright red in embarrassment. 

The girl’s lips tightened into a firm line of disagreement before she rolled her eyes and accepted his hand shake.

“Thank you for saving my life, what was your name again?”

“Ron Weasley, and you?”

“Padma Patil,” her lips quirked up into a small smile, “would you like to walk with me down to breakfast since you saved my life? I can interest you in all sorts of delicacies, my treat.” She joked.

Ron grinned, happy to make a friend in his new house already.

“It would be my pleasure,” he laughed, shoving his hands into his pockets, “it’s a good thing I’m not picky!”

The two laughed and chatted amicably, asking the first get-to-know-you type questions and answers. Ron hadn’t been friends with a girl before, he’d only dealt with Ginny and she was a monster in the flesh. Padma seemed nice so far, she definitely was breaking the stigma of arsehole-ish book worms for Ron, so far Ravenclaw seemed perfectly well-rounded and genuinely cool to be apart of. 

The common room was draped in blue tapestries, posters, and wall hangings. There was a large bookcase that regularly dispensed books for any to read in exchange for a book you wanted to allow others to read. It was also very quiet and candles glowed iridescently into the night, a blessing for Ron’s poor soul after spending his first eleven years in constant noise and chaos.

He hadn’t realized he would like his house so much on the first day, he grinned as he eagerly awaited a chance to write a letter to his mum and dad.

“Ron,” Padma’s tone suddenly changed as they approached the great hall, already filling up with students coming for breakfast and socialization before classes, “you seem like a good person, so I want to warn you ahead of time.”

“Warn me for what?” Ron asked, puzzled as they made their way to their designated table.

“You’ll see, I don’t have time to explain, but please promise me you won’t have a major reaction?” Padma winced.

“Now that is bloody terrifying! What’s going on?” He exclaimed, stopping before the table.

Padma bit her lip, peering over his shoulder with wide eyes.

“I don’t have time, just stick with me okay?”

“Hullo Ronald,” the voice of Anthony Goldstein, his other dorm mate, called out from behind them, “care to join us for breakfast?”

With a yank of his hand, Padma led them towards the table and plopped them down beside another girl with straw blonde hair neatly pulled back in a plait. 

“Morning Lisa,” Padma greeted politely, “Lisa this is Ron Weasley, Ron this is Lisa Turpin.”

Ron smiled and accepted her delicate hand into a shake, taking note of her haughty, upturned nose that lifted disdainfully as he touched her. He distracted himself with grabbing some sausage and bacon to pile onto his plate, his stomach rumbling in tandem.

“Has Professor Flitwick come around with our timetables, boys?” Padma leaned over, looking over at Terry and Michael.

“Not yet,” Terry said through a mouthful of eggs, “but I just saw Professor McGonagall handing out Gryffindor timetables, so they should be coming.”

Even though half of his mind was preoccupied with the delicious breakfast before him, Ron was aware of the stilted conversation and uneasy air between all of the first years with each other. It was strange, what was going on?

“Hello first years!” Professor Flitwick greeted, approaching their section of the table with timetables in hand. “I have timetables for you all, I look forward to seeing you in your first class at Hogwarts!”

Ron smiled politely at his new Head of House, accepting the timetable and scouring the schedule before him. There were a lot of classes all jammed into a week, but Ron was determined to try and do his best with the homework load that awaited them. He let out a deep breath that he had been holding, looking up just in time to catch Terry, Michael, and Anthony glancing at him with weird expressions on their faces.

“What? Do I have something on my face?” Ron asked, baffled as he scrubbed a hand down his face.

Padma rolled her eyes as the boys all collectively started laughing, returning to their private conversation.

“Ignore them, Ron, just focus on your classes. I’ll tell you everything after our first set of classes, okay?”

It didn’t settle right with him, something was amiss and he was out of the loop. Ron hated being out of the loop, having secrets held from him. A scowl had already burned its way onto his face at this point as he simply nodded and returned to his bacon.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something moving that caught his attention. He glanced up and grinned at the sight of Harry over at the Slytherin table waving at him. He waved back enthusiastically, ignoring the chuckle from Padma next to him.

“I see you’re breaking the unsaid rules of Hogwarts students already?”

“What do you mean?” Tilting his head to the side in confusion, Ron scrunched his brow at the comment.

“My mum said that houses don’t intermingle, it’s an unspoken agreement. You make friends with people in your house only and the other houses are seen as competition.” Padma explained, scooping a spoonful of porridge into her mouth.

“Well that’s a stupid rule.” Ron muttered, “that would mean I couldn’t interact with my siblings!”

Padma opened her mouth to argue, but closed it as she glanced over at the Gryffindor table.

“I suppose you’re right, my twin is there too.”

The great hall started to clear as students made their way to their first classes. Ron grabbed the last piece of bacon on his plate and stuffed it into his mouth, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. The nervousness of his first day of classes slowly faded to the foreground as Padma led the way to Flitwick’s classroom, chatting with him on her favorite charms she had read of so far. Ron had read through the textbooks as well, even before his mum scolded him to study. He knew he would need a head start on the curriculum, he had never been that great at school and had to really hunker down and focus--something that was always proven to be impossible to deal with in the crazy environment of the Weasley household.

Flitwick’s classroom was big, which was an unusual detail since he was so small, filled with desks and chairs lined neat and orderly along the sides of the room. The room was neatly decorated in dark mahogany furniture and navy blue curtains and wall decor. It was a modest look on the Ravenclaw common room, which was an explosion of blue and obvious Ravenclaw pride.

“Sit by me?” Padma asked, pulling a chair out next to her. 

A girl with eccentric, messy curls plopped down behind them beside Lisa, Ron barely registered her name as Mandy.

The class was silent, all for the sound of whispers and the rustling of books and pages turning. Ron positioned his ink bottle and quill at the left corner of his table, opening his parchment paper to begin his notes. He could still hear Anthony, Terry, and Michael laughing behind him, his hands clenching in irritation. He knew they were laughing at him, it was obvious with the concerned looks Padma kept passing him.

“Alright class!” Flitwick emerged from his office, wand in hand as he climbed up his set of stairs to his teaching pad, just reaching the same height as all of them.

There were a couple chuckles and snorts of laughter, which Flitwick encouraged with a laugh of his own.

“It’s fun to do that for you first years every year,” he said in amusement, “but regardless of my obvious lack of height, we will be moving on into the first lesson today where you will be taking notes from my lecture and then from the book.”

Ron was scribbling the date and titles onto his parchment, ready for the lesson to begin.

“Can somebody tell me what the first charm is in their textbook?”

Glancing down at his textbook, Ron squinted as he tried to read what was before him. The words danced on the pages, taunting and teasing him as the words mixed and blended together. He blinked several times, trying to push through and read the spell he knew the answer to. This was a new school year with a fresh start, Ron didn't want to be behind his fellow peers and friends in academics. He was sorted into bloody Ravenclaw for Merlin's sake! He had to make an impression somehow!

Ron instantly raised his hand, which caught the Professor’s attention. Smiling with satisfaction at Ron’s enthusiasm, Flitwick pointed at him to speak.

“It’s _Loomoss_ , Professor Flitwick.”

Suddenly the entire classroom burst into laughter, causing Ron to shrink back in confusion. The three boys behind him were cackling madly, chattering incessantly behind him.

“What did he say?!”

“Can you read, Weasley?!”

Shame crawled up Ron’s throat with the acidic taste of bile. What had he said wrong?

“I’m sorry Ronald, but it’s _Lumos_.” Flitwick corrected, wincing in sympathy at the embarrassed boy.

Ron shrunk down, hiding behind his book and parchment as the lesson continued and his peers kept giving him teasing looks and whispering about him. He jumped at the feeling of a hand on his shoulder, looking up to see Padma smiling sadly at him.

As the class came to an end, Ron dashed out before anyone could corner and tease him, making a beeline for the common room. But he didn’t have Padma at his side to lead the way, he quickly realized he was lost after a couple turns around the corner and found himself in an empty corridor that looked like it had never seen the light of day in a good couple decades.

“Ron?” Padma’s voice echoed from around the corner.

“Why didn’t you tell me beforehand?!” Ron accused, whipping around and yelling at the girl.

Padma’s eyes widened at the finger he was jabbing at her, a scowl morphing across her pretty face. 

“I didn't know you would read a spell incorrectly, Ronald, don’t blame me for that. I was going to warn you about Michael, Terry, and Anthony!”

Anger still boiling in his stomach, Ron sighed in frustration, he was being dramatic or overreacting was what Percy would always say.

“I overheard them making fun of you, that you didn’t belong in Ravenclaw. But obviously they’re being prats because the hat wouldn’t have put you in with us if you didn’t belong here!” Padma exclaimed, pulling Ron to sit down on the floor with her.

Tears threatened to spill down his cheeks as he continued to shake in frustration.

“But I’m not smart! I can’t read a bloody spell right on my first day! I have to try so hard just to get even decent marks on my work and school has always stressed me out! I don’t know why I’m here!”

Padma’s lips curled into an unpleasant frown, a sad glisten to her dark eyes as she gingerly placed a hand on his shoulder.

“Ron, I’ve always had to work a bit harder in classes too.”

He whipped his head up and stared at her incredulously, unable to believe what she was saying.

“What?!”

“Surprisingly school doesn’t come easily to me, it’s my passion for learning and understanding things that put me here. I think you’re smart, Ron, and we can work together to try and study as hard as we can. Promise to be my study buddy?”

A tear broke free and dripped down his nose as he laughed, accepting her hug. His heart felt warm at the show of support and that he wasn’t alone.

  
  
  
  


Even though it felt great to be out of Lucius’ grasp, Draco was sure this was what hell was like. Nobody but the Weasley’s had spoken to him the night before and all morning. It was discouraging, sure, but he had gone through worse. He just missed being able to talk to his friends and sit next to them during meals. He kept glancing across the hall to see them all chatting with Harry Potter of all people. 

“....I’m pretty sure Malfoy did some sort of spell to change places with Harry Potter,” Lavender Brown whispered to the annoying Patil twin, “it would make sense, maybe he made Harry evil!”

Draco couldn’t help the sudden laughter at the idiotic statement, earning him a hard glare from both Gryffindor girls.

“Have something to say, Malfoy? Are you going to confess to what you did?” Lavender exclaimed in her annoying, shrill voice.

“What is there to confess? I haven’t done a bloody thing.” He rolled his eyes so hard he gave himself a headache.

At least the Weasley twins thought it was amusing, they were snorting with laughter.

“Maybe you should go up to Harry and try to break the spell.” Fred suggested, trying to look serious.

“What would the counter spell be?” Parvati inquired, all too thickly serious.

Draco groaned into his hands as he covered his laughter behind his hands.

“It’s _delectabis_ , you’ll see the results immediately!” George nodded his head, his face the perfect mask of seriousness.

Lavender and Parvati curled together to whisper to each other, their backs to the twins who were now grinning wickedly at each other.

“Is that…?” Draco muttered, unable to hide the grin forcing its way on his face.

“Oh you betcha, oh-so-evil-one!”

Herbology was his first class, which was a blessing because he could sit with Hermione and not have to have an awkward encounter of finding a seat with one of his peers who absolutely hated him. He ended up walking down to the greenhouses before any of the other Gryffindors could get there, which was great because he could meet up with Hermione.

The Hufflepuff in question grinned brightly at him, yellow looked good on her!

“How’s living with the living embodiments of sunshine and happiness going?” He greeted her, earning a glare from an older Hufflepuff.

Hermione rolled her eyes and laughed.

“It’s weird,” she mused, biting her lip unsuredly, “I don’t feel like I belong with them as much….”

“Why’s that?” He asked, hands shoved into his pockets.

“I’m not nice like them, they are all a little bit…”

“Bland? Pushovers? Fake? Stick in the mud?” Draco teased, earning a jab of her elbow in his side. “Or dare I say, unkind _at all?!_ ”

“Sort of, I don’t know. I feel like I’m too harsh and mean for them….like last night I’m not joking when I tell you that all of the girls in my dormitory wanted to braid each other’s hair in a braiding train!”

A bark of laughter escaped Draco’s calm visage, his entire body leaning back with the force of the laughter and causing tears to leak from his eyes. He couldn’t stop laughing as Hermione joined him, now bracing himself on his knees at the mental image.

“Merlin’s pants, ‘Mione, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all morning! Despite the twins manipulating Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil, of course.”

“What’s that about?!”

“Apparently it’s rumored that I cast a spell on Potter and switched places with him in his supposed house and forced him to be evil in Slytherin. The twins convinced them that he’s really under a spell and told them some random charm to cast on him to “break the spell”.”

“Draco! That’s irresponsible,” Hermione exclaimed, punching his arm. “That’s completely wrong of them to assume that of you though, I’m sorry!”

He scratched his neck awkwardly as other Gryffindors and Hufflepuffs joined them in waiting for the class to start.

“Here,” Hermione gestured as they walked into the greenhouse, “you can be my partner. Maybe if they see you interacting with an “innocent Hufflepuff” they’ll come around.”

Draco grinned, feeling his heart warm at the kind gesture as he grabbed the stool next to her. He immediately got weird looks from some of her housemates, but he refused to move from his friend--and wasn’t that weird? He actually had a friend that he felt he could trust after knowing for barely a day!

“Good morning class!” Professor Sprout greeted cheerily, earning an equally cheery response from her own Hufflepuffs. “How was your first morning? Did you all sleep well and wake up vibrant and happy to begin your first day as a chipper, first year wizard and witch?”

“This is going to be a long seven years…” Hermione groaned under her breath, making Draco snort and earning a disapproving glare from everyone around him.

After their herbology class, they had lunch, which was extremely awkward now since Lavender and Parvati were shooting him the iciest glares in existence.

“Did I miss it?” Draco groaned as the twins plopped down in front of him at the table.

“Oh yeah, it was worth the detention from McGonagall,” Fred cheered.

“You should have seen the look on Harry’s face as he just started laughing maniacally out of nowhere! I think it just convinced everyone that he really _is_ an evil, slimy Slytherin.” George relayed, a bright smile on his face at a good prank.

Draco looked up to see that Harry was walking towards the Slytherin table with a cross look on his face, glaring over at his table. The two happened to glance at each other at the right time, making goosebumps rise on Draco’s arms.

“I wish I could have been there.” Draco diverted his gaze, going back to ignoring the death glares from his classmates.

He was expecting to go all seven years without muttering a word to his fellow Gryffindors, when in the middle of History of Magic a note was tossed onto his parchment. He looked up to see Seamus Finnegan and Dean Thomas glaring daggers at him. He unfolded the piece of parchment, his insides freezing over in building anger.

_We know who you are, you can’t fool us_ was scribbled in Seamus’ harsh handwriting.

He slowly folded the paper back and slipped it into his pocket, waiting with bated breath for the class to end. As the clock struck 3:30, he bolted up from his seat, beating everyone out of the room and into the hall. Before he could disappear around a corner, his arms were yanked and shoved forward into a dark and unused corridor. He tried to fight back against his peers, but they just tossed him forwards on the floor.

“We know what you are, Malfoy! You can’t fool anyone! Parvati told us about your father and what he did to muggleborn witches and wizards in the first war.” Seamus spat. “You don’t belong here!”

Draco had dealt with punches, slaps, and degrading comments from his father all of his life. He had built up a tolerance to insults and disappointments, but hearing his own housemates degrade his character to his face had his anger boiling to the surface.

“You have _no right_ to compare me to that bloody arsehole, Finnegan! I! Am! Not! Him!” He screamed, stomping forward into Seamus’ space with each pronounced word.

“The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, Malfoy!” Seamus yelled, shoving his chest.

Memories of bruises and scrapes, of crying into his mum’s lap and to his friends behind closed doors all came flooding back with vigor as he let his emotions finally win over. He screamed and launched forward, tackling Seamus to the ground. He tried to get a punch in, but suddenly he was jerked up and into a wall. 

Flailing his limbs to get back at Finnegan, Draco slowly realized he was shoved back by a spell, more specifically McGonagall’s spell. 

“Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Finnegan, explain yourself this instant!” She exclaimed, her face quickly growing redder by the second.

“Malfoy’s evil, Professor!” The Patil girl had the audacity to blurt out.

“Miss Patil! That will be twenty points from Gryffindor! You will not degrade your own housemates like that! Mr. Malfoy was sorted into our house for a reason, you don’t have the opportunity to question him on that reason and who he is! Whatever any of you have heard of Mr. Malfoy’s family does not apply to him, do you all understand me?!”

Draco didn’t realize but he was crying, big fat tears were sliding down his cheeks as he sobbed into his hands in embarrassment and shame.

“Hogwarts does not condone bullying, _especially_ from my own house! You will all have a weeks worth of detention with Filch this week. Now go! Get out of my sight!” McGonagall screeched, her anger finally reaching its last strand.

Slowly, McGonagall released the binding spell on Draco, letting him sink to his knees on the cold concrete floor. She didn’t speak a word, just sat there rubbing his back as he let everything out. He even allowed himself to lay his head on her shoulder, crying into her robes and just letting everything out.

“I am so very sorry, Mr. Malfoy,” she whispered softly to him as he finally hiccuped his last sob, wiping at his face to hide all evidence of his breakdown. “I didn’t expect such a reaction from your housemates, I knew they would be hostile at first but I never thought it would all resort to outright bullying.”

He shook his head, still unable to speak and overwhelmed by all that had just happened.

“I want to make an official report on your home life, Draco,” his spine stiffened at her words, “but I don’t want to endanger you or your mother. Do you trust the Headmaster and myself to take care of this for you?”

He peered up at her through tear streaked eyes, so unsure of how to think or trust her kind words.

“I don’t know, P-Professor,” he hiccuped, “h-h-h-he--'' Panic seized his chest and he began to shake uncontrollably in her arms.

“There, there, Draco,” she whispered, calmly rubbing his back still, “The professors and faculty here at Hogwarts will do our best to prove ourselves to you, okay? Even though your father might be on the board of directors, we will find a way.”

Draco hoped he could believe them.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Oi, Granger!” Blaise shouted as he and Harry neared the Transfiguration room right as Hermione turned the corner, “have you seen Draco? I just saw the first year Gryffindorks walk past but he wasn’t with them, you saw him last right?”

Harry snorted at the nickname for the Gryffindors. He wasn’t too happy with them after the stunt Lavender Brown and Parvati Patil pulled on him earlier. He was still speaking with a slight warble in his voice and would randomly break out into giggles from the lasting effects of the charm.

“I haven’t actually, I’m kind of worried, they haven’t been too kind to him.” Hermione frowned, her face wrinkled in worry.

“Well duh, they’re Gryffindors, ‘Mione, kindness is for you and your flower-picking ditzy headed housemates.” Blaise teased, earning himself a good natured smack from said Hufflepuff.

“You’re annoying you know that right?” Hermione laughed, “But no, I saw them glaring at him during lunch, it didn’t look too good.”

Harry hadn’t interacted with Draco yet, but the blonde boy seemed nice. He was quiet and sat with the Weasley twins at the Gryffindor table, not at all rude and annoying as his other housemates.

“I wonder where McGonagall is, she’s too strict to ever be late.” Hannah Abbott muttered as the trio walked into the classroom and sat in the front row.

Suddenly the doors opened and McGonagall came striding in, her face a mask of fury as she pointed at Blaise.

“Mr. Zabini, a word please.”

Blaise hurriedly grabbed his bag and chased after the professor out into the hall, the doors slamming shut behind her.

“I wonder what happened….” Susan Bones, a mousy-faced Hufflepuff muttered, her eyes as big as saucers.

“Did Blaise do anything?” Hermione whispered to Harry, her brows scrunched in concern.

“I don’t think so…” Harry frowned, thinking, “maybe this has something to do with Draco?”

Finally the doors opened again and McGonagall trode in without Blaise in tow. Her face was perfectly clear of the earlier emotion that had darkened her strict face more so than usual.

“Pull out your books and turn to page five, get your wands ready and repeat after me as I read off the enchantments, if you will.” She instructed, gliding to place in front of the classroom.

Harry couldn’t keep still through the entire class, his skin itching with the need to find out where Blaise had gone and if Draco was okay. Hermione looked concerned too and even more so distracted from her homework for once. Theo and Pansy both had faces of pinched concentration, the both of them quiet and pale as they hunched over their books-- they must have been thinking the same thing he and Hermione were.

“Mr. Potter, Mr. Nott, Miss Parkinson, may I have a word?” McGonagall commanded as the class came to an end.

“Professor, does this have to do with Draco?” Hermione inquired as the class dispersed behind them.

“That is none of your business, Miss Granger, now please--”

“Professor, she’s friends with Draco, if this regards him she has every right to be here with us.” Harry spoke up for the girl.

McGonagall pursed her lips before nodding at Hermione to come forward.

“I have been made aware that Mr. Malfoy has been severely bullied by his housemates.”

Harry felt his stomach drop, grief ripping through his heart for the boy.

“You didn’t see that coming, Professor?! You should have known they would try and corner him!” Pansy exclaimed, her eyes wide with anger and also fear.

“Miss Parkinson, I knew there would be hostility, but I never knew my own lions to act out that way. They have all been dealt with and given detentions, but I wanted to make you all aware that since you must know of Mr. Malfoy’s upbringing,” she cast a wary glance at Hermione and Harry, “that there will be an investigation brought to light on his home life.”

“It’s really bad, is it?” Hermione asked, her lips quivering.

“We usually see students in the same case as Mr. Malfoy, but it’s never easy to deal with them. I want to let you all know so that we can keep Mr. Malfoy as safe as possible without endangering him further.”

Harry nodded his head, his mind filled with worry for the boy. He knew what it was like, that fear of your own home and those that brought you up. But he was The Boy Who Lived, no one would believe he came from an abusive home and that his aunt and uncle hated his magical guts. He wanted Draco to have a better home life, even if he couldn't have it, at least one of them would.

“Harry?” Pansy’s voice cut through his musings as they left the classroom for the infirmary where Draco was placed. “You’re pale, are you okay?”

“I’m just peachy.” He muttered, forcing a smile on his face.

This wasn’t about him now, Draco was actually going through something and needed the support.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Hermione’s entire body with taut with tension as they waited outside the infirmary doors, Madam Pomfrey had told them to wait while she finished her check up on Draco. The anger and rage that was building up inside of her was the exact reason that she couldn’t belong in her own house. She had listened to the prefects going on about how Hufflepuff’s deal with issues in non-confrontational ways, that anger never solved anything and kindness was the way to deal with what life threw your way.

But Hermione was angry, she was so angry that one of her friends was possibly injured and dealing with a lot of pain. She was upset that the wizarding world seemed just as complicated and frustrating as the muggle one, that she could never escape bullies and being made fun of. She had always felt furious, always bottling it away because it was frowned upon but it was always there nonetheless. 

Finally the doors opened, Hermione could breathe again as she shoved herself inside first and made a beeline for Draco.

“Miss Granger! Do be kind and do not do or say anything to upset my patient!” Madam Pomfrey yelled after her as the others followed after her.

Draco was slumped against the bedframe of the bed closest to the door, his face was pale and drawn with emotion. Her heart ached at the sight, a deep and resonant pain that hurt more than any broken bone or bad grade could cause her. She launched herself at him, wrapping her small arms around his torso in the need to relieve all of the pain he must have been feeling at that moment. She ignored the cries from Madam Pomfrey, even that Professor McGonagall came in behind them and assured Pomfrey that the reaction was okay.

“I’m so sorry Draco,” she whispered to him, clutching his shirt in her fists. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you and that they did that to you!”

He was frozen beneath her but slowly yet surely he returned the embrace with the same fervor. She was crying into his shoulder, so upset that he was upset and that there was nothing she could do to relieve him of it all.

Suddenly the bed dipped with the weight of Harry, Blaise, Theo, and Pansy all clamoring onto the bed and wrapping their arms around the two. Hermione looked up to see Pansy smiling gratefully at her, a smile that wasn’t laced with other intentions or masks; it was a genuine look that made her look really pretty. She blushed, hiding her face in Draco’s shoulder again, focusing on rubbing his back as he finally let out the tears he had been holding back.

“Th-Thank you guys.” Draco hiccupped, squeezing Harry’s arm tighter and Hermione’s waist. “You didn’t have to come--”

“Oh shush, drama queen!” Pansy hissed, whacking him upside the head playfully.

This earned them a bark of laughter from the blonde, the mood hanging over them losing the heavy burden it had held prior. Slowly, everyone parted from the bone crushing hug, waiting for Draco to speak up.

“What do we need to do, Draco?” Hermione blurted out.

“You’re doing all you can,” Draco murmured, not looking at any of them, “I don’t know if there’s anything _anyone_ can do…”

“McGonagall promised you, Draco,” Pansy snapped, “that’s a light sided person vowing to do something for you and your mum! If anyone can get anything done, other than Snape, it’s her.”

“You can spend time with us over summer breaks!” Hermione suggested.

“No offense, Granger, but Lucius won’t buy it if he gets an invite for his son to spend the summer with a muggleborn.” Theo said harshly.

Suddenly defeated, Hermione felt like crying as her spirits were dragged down to the depths of despair. She wanted to actually _do_ something! She hated seeing people sad and upset! Draco suddenly reached over, with shaky hands, and grabbed her sweaty palms with a squeeze. Forcing her to make eye contact with him, he smiled softly at her, wiping away the stray tear that happened to leak from her eye.

“Thank you for caring, that helps a lot.”

They spent hours just talking with him, catching him up on their first days and how dumb their houses were. Even Blaise and Pansy had something to complain about, that wasn’t the fact that Draco was with them!

“She snores, Draco! It’s _annoying_!” Pansy exclaimed about the half blood girl named Tracey in her dorm.

“Tracey seems fine though!” Harry piped in, “She was cool to talk with this morning.”

“Of course the two half bloods kicked it off!” Pansy retorted.

Hermione hadn’t ever had friends like this before, it was amazing to be able to talk with kids her age who weren’t trying to bully and tease her. Yes, Pansy was a little bit brash and Theo could be too blunt at times, but it was nice to see them joke around and tease Draco fondly. It was obvious that the three Slytherins had been close with Draco, they all had a special way of communicating and understanding one another; it was like they were all siblings.

“Mr. Malfoy will be back in class tomorrow, he needs his sleep!” Madam Pomfrey chided, kicking them out of her infirmary. 

With hugs goodbye, Hermione felt much better. She could rest easy tonight knowing that Draco would be okay and that strides were being made to ensure his safety.

“We’ve only met just yesterday,” Pansy suddenly spoke up next to her, her dark gaze penetrating Hermione as easily as punching through wet paper. “But I like you, for a Hufflepuff I mean. I think the rest of your house sucks, too nice for my tastes.”

She couldn’t help but laugh, nodding her head as the boys walked ahead, discussing something about one of their classes.

“Me too, they are,” she paused trying to find the right wording, “ _unique_.”

“Just say it, ‘mione, they are _bland_ ! All that joy and happiness _has_ to be fake! Nobody is that chipper and bright all the time, so what do they have up their arses that’s making them smile all the bloody time?!” Pansy exclaimed, the vulgarity of her words making Hermione’s cheeks turn a bright shade of rosy red.

“I don’t really know why I’m there, to be honest…” Hermione muttered, the self consciousness rising up again in the back of her mind as she nibbled and worried at her bottom lip.

Pansy was silent as they walked, just gazing at the side of Hermione’s face as if she were a rather complicated puzzle.

“In a weird sense I think you do belong there. There’s so much more to the world than just being _nice_ or _kind_ , people have layers and are much more complex than just that.”

Pansy paused, rolling her eyes as she scuffed her toe on the cobblestone aimlessly. Was that a blush she was hiding behind her hair?

“Don’t go spreading what I’m saying, but I think you’re the perfect epitome of what Hufflepuff should be.”

Hermione’s heart felt like it was rising like a hot air balloon in her chest at the compliment. Her eyes brightened and she couldn’t stop the grin from cracking across her face. Pansy just groaned at the obvious tell of emotion coming from her.

“You know, Pansy, I think that was a compliment.”

“No, it wasn’t, just stating a bloody fact, is all it is!”

“Sure thing, and Merlin is my brother!”

“You know what, I take it back, you Hufflepuff’s are _annoying_! Get out of my sight, Granger!” Pansy teased, playfully shoving her shoulder as Hermione laughed heartily.

As she parted from her friends, with promises to say hello to each other before classes, Hermione felt infinitely better about having to face her dormitory of girls already best friends with each other. 

“ _Puff Pride_.” Hermione whispered to the door, knocking on the right brick.

The door rolled open, a whiff of what smelled like baking bread and sweet honey wafted up the stairs and into her face. Curiously, she tiptoed down the stairs, the sounds of laughter and chatter getting noticeably louder as she entered the common room. If the people were different, Hermione would have been extremely happy with her house, the common room was her favorite part of the whole experience. 

Surrounded by plush, comfy chairs and pillows, were four or five sixth years making bread. It was an odd sight, watching the ingredients form before her eyes and literally form before her eyes, but even odder that students were _making bread_ of all things!

Instead of staying to investigate (she had a niggling feeling she wouldn’t get the answers she would have liked to hear) she marched towards the first year girls corridor. She opened the door right as the sounds of giggling abruptly stopped. Her face flushed bright red at the sudden attention on her from all five of her dormmates.

“Oh hullo, Hermione!” Hannah Abbott greeted, too cherrily. 

“Hi.” Hermione mumbled, trying to attempt a smile that wasn’t a grimace of pain.

“Where were you?” Mandy Runcorn asked, a suspicious look on her blotchy face.

“Talking with Professor McGonagall.” Hermione lied, trying to hide her guilty face.

“You were with the S-S-Slytherins though, weren’t you?” Megan Jones stuttered, her face pale in horror. “Are you okay?”

With a scowl etched on her face and her frustration already wearing thin, Hermione tried to be polite as she grabbed her bed clothes.

“Yes I’m fine, why wouldn’t I be?”

As she slammed the door shut behind her, she heard the whispers start up again.

“Do you think she’s under their spell?”

“I hope she’s okay, those Slytherins are nasty….”

“Should we inform Professor Sprout?”

Hermione couldn’t stop the tears from leaking down her cheeks as she dashed for the bathroom.

  
  



	4. Wizarding Homework is Much Better than Muggle Homework

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Harry's friendship with Ron continues to blossom, despite being in different houses, Padma is more observant than any first year, the group starts a big homework group where each member brings a skill set to the table, Draco makes friends with someone in his house, and a troll somehow gets led into the school....

The first week of Harry’s first year had flown by with new faces, expectations, and friends. It was Friday now and he had his first class with his head of house, Professor Snape, who hadn’t seemed to warm up to him at all in the week of being sorted into Slytherin. Harry didn’t understand why the professor seemed to hate him so much, he would glare at him out of nowhere and merely tolerate him if he were addressing Harry’s friends.

That was also a strange thing to the boy, to have friends that weren’t scared to be seen with him and get beat up by Dudley--if anything Blaise and Theo could beat up Dudley without moving a finger! Pansy could as well, but she would do it for fun instead of as a necessity, which was different in many obvious ways. The three of them had welcomed Harry in, even though they could have looked the other way from The Boy Who Lived. They explained the wizarding world to him and how he was portrayed in it, especially from their point of view with parents who didn’t necessarily like the fact that Harry lived and Voldemort died.

Blaise was smart and candid, he would work his damndest to explain things to Harry from a neutral standpoint, doing everything he could to understand Harry and have him learn in the process. He could be very serious and straightforward, or he could be pulling your leg without the person even realizing it. He had a penetrating stare too, he always seemed to know exactly what people were thinking. It was a trait that Harry wasn’t sure he enjoyed at first, but that just encouraged him to work harder on his poker face.

Theo was silent most of the time, but that was because he didn’t necessarily trust everyone around him-- he would open up like a flower in spring when they were alone in the common room, behind closed doors from the rest of the Hogwarts population to see. He was hilarious and had a dark sense of humor that always snuck up into a conversation and twisted it into his favor. Harry also liked that Theo didn’t suck up to his face, he treated Harry like any other person and not The Boy Who Lived.

Pansy was flirtatious and eccentric, but she could also be very loyal and open minded. She cared very deeply for her friends and wouldn’t hesitate to do anything for them. It was nice to be accepted into her small group of friends that she cared about, even if that meant Harry had to endure her very touchy personality.

It was obvious to the school by now that Snape favored his Slytherins and hated the Gryffindors the most, he would harshly mark down points whenever the Gryffindors did anything he deemed wrong or irresponsible and he would yell insults at them; he only made an exception for Harry and Draco. Harry was the only Slytherin he wouldn’t outright praise and Draco was the only Gryffindor he would acknowledge for their good work.

That first potions class had Harry on the edge of his seat with stress and nerves; mostly nerves from the fact that Neville Longbottom, of Gryffindor, was absolutely horrendous at potions and almost burnt the  _ cobblestone  _ floor to a crisp. Draco seemed to be working well enough with Dean Thomas, a quieter Gryffindor who looked properly abashed whenever he had to interact with the blonde. 

“Seems like Thomas is deciding to play nice.” Blaise murmured, his attention focused on crushing the snake fangs. “Don’t add the porcupine quills just yet.” He instructed.

Even though it was odd and strangely upsetting that his Head of House disliked him, Harry couldn’t help but be more upset over the fact that the rest of the student body seemed to despise him. Almost a month into the school year and still he had people giving him quizzical and distrusting looks. Countless times he dodged a spell aimed at him and his Slytherin housemates that he was sure wasn’t “just an accident”, many of those attempts could have landed him in the infirmary with broken bones or mysterious warts spreading over his skin.

“It’s unfair,” Pansy hissed through clenched teeth after tripping over a jelly legs jinx spell missed her by an inch, causing her to slam her head into a wall. “But this is what happens to us snakes, we depend upon and protect each other.”

Harry had a hard time reigning in his slight Gryffindor tendencies, the voice in the back of his head screaming for justice at the unfairness of it all. He wanted to chase after the Gryffindor fourth years, who were surprisingly too cowardly to stay behind and own up to what they had done to a first year. 

In the muggle world, Harry hadn’t had the opportunity to do well on his classwork. He had always wanted to learn more, to write out his essays the way he wanted to, but Dudley always ripped his homework or complained to his parents about how “unfair it was”. But now Harry could let his brain go at the pace he wanted it to be; he was encouraged to research for his classes, to pay extra attention to what his professors lectured about, and to practice his wand movements and spells with no restraint.

Working with his new housemates on school work was surprisingly easy, they were able to have a system and flow to how they tackled their assignments. Harry did well in Defense, Pansy and Theo were good at Charms, and Blaise was good at Transfiguration. What they all struggled with though was Potions, they could all pass somewhat but for ambitious Slytherins it wasn’t good enough.

That’s how Draco was added into their study dates and why they ended up studying in the library instead of the common room. Crabbe and Goyle were annoying and always breathed too heavy and the second year Slytherin girls cackled like a bunch of witches from a muggle movie. Harry was glad for the extra time to get to know the Gryffindor, he had really only interacted with him through his newfound friends so far. Rather quickly, Harry found he had nothing to worry about when being around the blonde boy, he was wickedly funny and loved to explain quidditch to Harry’s excitement and great surprise. 

Ever since the first Flying class, Harry fell in love with the sport. He felt free when he soared above the ground, a sense of confidence would swoop over him and he felt like he could attempt all sorts of tricks and spins that Draco ranted and raved about from professional quidditch players. 

“Morning Harry!” Ron Weasley called from down the corridor at the Herbology greenhouse. 

Harry waved amicably, ignoring the glares from Ron and his own classmates respectively. That was another thing to get used to, he was used to people giving him weird and ugly looks but Harry couldn’t stand it when people glared at his friends from other houses just for interacting with him. Guilt always wormed its way into his gut, a tight and ugly ball shrivelling away at his insides.

“How did you do on the homework yesterday in Transfiguration?” Ron asked as Harry and his friends finally approached him and the Patil girl.

“I think I did okay, Blaise helped us out on the spell. Apparently I wasn’t flicking my wand the right way, but I still can’t get my match to even assume the shape of a needle!” Harry expressed, frustrated that he couldn’t get a simple spell to work.

Ron’s eyes lit up, a happy grin forming over his freckled face.

“I thought Padma and I were the only ones!” The redhead admitted with a laugh, “I kept getting the pronunciation wrong, just like I do in all of my other classes though…” The smile on his face dimmed slightly at the self deprecating comment.

“It’s alright!” Harry assured, hating that the boy was so hard on himself, “The other day Pansy thought that  _ Alohammora _ was pronounced  _ AloHAMOORA _ .”

“Hey!” Pansy shrieked, smacking her textbook across the back of Harry’s head, “I told you not to tell anyone!”

The ragtag group laughed goo naturally, earning suspicious glances and glares from their other classmates. 

“I didn’t realize that two Ravenclaws would struggle with homework.” Blaise pointed out, giving Padma a scrutinizing glance.

“Ravenclaws are humans too, Zabini, just like I know you have feelings underneath all of those Snakey scales of yours.” Padma snapped back, her dark eyes sharp and pointed as she glanced at the other Slytherins to argue with her.

“Touche, Patil.” Blaise chuckled, shoving his hands in his pockets.

“Oh please, it’s Padma. If you keep using my last name I won’t know if you’re addressing me or my twin.”

Harry grimaced at the reminder of the Gryffindor girl, Parvati was the stark opposite of Padma in how she presented herself and the friends she kept. Padma didn’t socialize with the other Ravenclaw girls as often, she mostly kept company with Ron while Parvati was very girly and gossipped loudly about all sorts of fashion magazines with the other Gryffindor girls.

“Don’t remind me,” Blaise started laughing, obviously remembering the embarrassing moment by wrapping his long arms around Harry’s shoulders, “she’s quite the menace, isn’t she?”   
  


“Quit it, you buffoon!” Harry shrieked, trying to punch his way out of Blaise’s sudden death grip around him.

“Parvati is annoying, yes,” Padma couldn’t help but laugh along with everyone else, “but she’s my sister and I’m legally supposed to stand up for her-- it’s twin law, so stop it.” she half heartedly said with a roll of her eyes.

“Hello class!” Professor Sprout greeted as she opened the greenhouse doors for them with an enthusiastic wave, “make yourselves at home! We are going to start learning about Devil’s Snare today!”

“Wanna sit with me today?” Harry asked Ron, suddenly nervous that Ron would say no. He desperately wanted to make more of an effort to befriend the redheaded boy. He had been nothing but kind to Harry when they first met, his first real friend!

“Of course!” Ron yelled in excitement, “Padma, do you want to work with Pansy?”

“Don’t worry, Ronnie, I’ll test Blaise on his Herbology knowledge.” Padma said with a wave of her hand, already darting over to said Slytherin with a determined glint in her eye.

“This is great, I’m glad we can work together,” Harry grinned, “thanks for being one of my first real friends, Ron. I hope we can do this more often.”

Ron’s eyes widened, his lips pulling into a soft and friendly smile.

“You’re welcome Harry, of course we can hang out more! Maybe we can study or adventure the halls on the weekends!”

“I would love that!” Harry grinned.

  
  
  


Being alone with his housemates got a little bit easier over the next month, Draco admitted to himself as he watched Seamus, Lavender, and Parvati awkwardly stalk past him to the other side of the common room. But it really was all thanks to Dean Thomas, the muggleborn boy who had watched with a horrified expression as Draco had screamed about his father. They didn’t become friends overnight, of course not, but Draco wasn’t blind to the little things the other boy did for him. Dean would wake him up earlier than the other so he would get to the showers before the other boys did, he would seat himself next to Draco during meals and in classes, and he would make little comments to the others to shape up.

It was too good to be true at first, Draco couldn’t help but think that Dean had some ulterior motive in all of his actions. But after a while, Draco got used to the fierce protectiveness of Dean Thomas in his life and tried to be grateful that someone cared enough to stand up for him.

“Morning Thomas.” Draco greeted him, trying to show his appreciation by actually talking to the boy now.

“Morning, Draco.” Dean muttered after a second of confusion morphing his face, sitting down next to Draco and leaning over to grab for the grits. “Mind passing the ketchup?”

Draco sneered, daintily grabbing the ketchup bottle and tossing it to the boy.

“Whoever eats ketchup on their grits deserves a special place in hell.”

“Well people who pour their milk into the bowl before adding their cereal are the vilest wizards on this earth.” Dean shot back.

After a beat of silence, both boys finally gave in and started to laugh, going back to their meals in relative silence.

After that incident, Draco found that he actually had a friend, someone that he actually enjoyed hanging out with. Dean was wicked smart and caught onto the subjects very quickly. He always had dozens of questions for Draco, wanting to know as much as he could so he wasn’t at a disadvantage. Draco readily gave him the answers in return for information on the muggle world. He needed to know everything about the people and world that his father had distilled a hatred in him from the moment he was born; Draco just needed to know something for himself for once.

“Ekletrickity?” Draco stumbled over the word, frowning at Dean as the other Gryffindor laughed madly. 

“No, it’s  _ electricity _ , it’s a source of power that powers lights and machines. It’s a force that you cannot see but muggles have worked for years to be able to harness it and make it function in our everyday lives.” Dean explained, waving his hands with enthusiasm.

That was absurd, Draco reeled in shock, how could muggles actually have the capacity to do something as amazing as that without magic?!

When Draco revealed this question to Dean, the boy just smirked with pride.

“It’s because we are secretly better than you lot, hidden in your castles and buggering your cousins to be “pure”.”

Draco actually snorted at the joke and accuracy. He couldn’t believe he had been raised to view the world in such a way, to fear muggles and view them as dirt and below him. It was absurd, muggles could probably destroy wizards if given the chance, definitely not the other way around!

“Dean,” he asked after a beat of silence and a quick glance around the empty common room, “why are you being nice to me?”

Dean was silent for a moment, the grin sliding off his face as he scowled down at his hands. Draco took the opportunity to really glance at the boy, at how Dean had thin shoulders and a small frame, but he held himself with a confidence that made him seem much bigger and braver than he felt. Dean’s skin was a tan color that contrasted against Draco’s pale arms as they sat side by side in front of the fireplace. His hair was a mess of coiled curls, much neater than Harry Potter’s by a longshot, some of the longer curls fell over his scrunched brow delicately.

“I never knew my own father, my mum said he just up and vanished one day. She was left to take care of me and my little sister with hardly any sort of experience working full time. I’ve always hated him for how he left us, for how he just decided that we weren’t worth it for him.”

Dean paused, his voice had gone shaky with tears that he was trying to hold in. Draco couldn’t help but throw his arm over Dean’s shoulder, pulling him close into his side and trying to provide comfort like his mum always did for him. It seemed to work, Dean continued to glare into the fireplace with tears leaking down his cheeks as his body shook with fury in Draco’s arms.

“When I saw you shouting about your own father after what we did to you,” Dean snapped his mouth shut and smacked Draco on the shoulder when he started to protest, “don’t you dare, I was apart of it and did nothing to stop them! But seeing you so furious with your own father and how you were raised, I could see my own fury and anger in you. I knew that if roles were reversed I would be as bloody mad as you had been.”

The two boys were silent for a moment, before Percy Weasley swooped down on them and chided them for being up after hours. As they scrambled upstairs to their dorm, Draco swallowed his fear and reached for Dean’s hand, squeezing it with all the words he desperately wanted to say but was scared to do so.

“Thank you.” He muttered.

Draco just squeezed his hand in response, smiling softly to himself, “of course, thank  _ you _ .”

  
  


“What do you think Professor Quirrell’s obsession with the locked classroom door on the third floor corridor is all about?” Padma whispered in Ron’s ear, blatantly ignoring said Professor’s stuttering as he tried to read from the textbook.

Over the last week, Ron and Padma kept coming across Professor Quirrell poking around the classroom door that the entire school had been warned not to enter. It was odd, since the man was such a shaky and scared fellow, for him to be snooping around. Something didn’t seem to be right, Ron thought as he gave the Professor a cursory glance over. 

“I don’t know, but something is definitely fishy if someone like  _ him _ is interested in what is behind the door.” Ron muttered back, trying to at least look like he was making notes.

“Maybe we should have a look for ourselves,” Padma whispered, writing down the comment Quirrel made about vampires and how garlic wasn’t a known repellent, “it would help give us a sense of what’s happening.”

“What?!” Ron hissed, getting a dark look from Isobel Macdougal, a tall girl with creepy ice, blue eyes and black hair that vaguely reminded Ron of eels.

“Where’s your inner Gryffindor bravery, Ronnie?” Padma chuckled, poking him in the side with her pen, “You spelled coersion wrong, it’s with an e not an a.”

Ron growled under his breath and he scribbled out the word and rewrote it into his notes.

“Besides,” Padma spoke up again as Quirrell turned his back to the class, “we have chanced upon seeing him peeking around that corridor three times already! I think it’s a sign that he’s up to something and that we have had the opportunity to see.”

“But what if there’s something bad behind those doors?!” Ron wanted to scream, but the scowl from Anthony Goldstein shut him up.

“What if there isn’t? Then we have answers and we can go back to studying!” Padma scowled, jotting down the last of her notes as Professor Quirrell announced the class over for the day.

“Fine,” Ron glowered, trying to take his time and finish up the last sentence of his notes like Padma had suggested he do. “Wanna compare my notes with yours and see where I messed up?”

“Oh hush up on the self deprecation, Ronald.” Padma scolded, leading them towards the library. “Let’s go and compare them while I try and tackle the next aisle for books on learning spells.”

Ron hadn’t gotten a straight answer out of his friend on why she was so dead set on finding books to help him learn and study better, but he appreciated the gesture nonetheless. She had gone through a whole aisle of books with some ideas, but she continued to look and scour through everything the library could provide.

Ron assumed his position at their favorite table and opened his notebook and Padma’s, rewriting his notes to look much neater and with correct spelling. His friend had taken it upon herself to help make Ron understand their lessons, in return for him to help quiz her and work through the different incantations they learned. The two of them seemed to rush through their work and not take enough time to absorb the lessons, so their practice after their classes always helped reestablish the lectures and lessons into their minds.

Whenever anyone teased them for it, Ron always knew Padma had his back and he would have hers. It was strange how close the two of them had gotten, how Ron couldn’t imagine his life in Ravenclaw without her steadfast friendship and helping him have the confidence in his classes. 

“Ron!” Harry’s voice startled Ron from his focus on copying down notes. “Mind if we sit with you?”

Ron glanced up to see Harry surrounded with a rather odd group of students. Blaise and Pansy were at his side, but Draco Malfoy was casually standing to his right with Dean Thomas and a Hufflepuff girl that he vaguely recognized from his Potions class. Harry seemed to attract attention, even if he didn’t mean to. Hardly anyone was friends with other houses like he was, merlin’s pants Harry had actually befriended someone from each house!

“S-Sure, you can pull up some chairs, Padma is hunting for some books at the moment.” Ron stuttered, overwhelmed at how many people were staring at him.

“Oh Padma!” The Hufflepuff girl exclaimed, her dark eyes gleaming with surprise as she scooted next to Ron, “I was wanting to talk with her on how she was able to get her potion done so perfectly! I had mine sitting for 45 minutes, but I think she might have waited longer.”

“Yeah, I think she might have gone for 60 minutes,” Ron mused, trying to remember that lesson, “I can’t remember off the top of my head, our notes are in the common room.”

“You skiving off and copying Padma’s notes there, Weasley?” Dean Thomas asked, frowning in confusion as Draco and he pulled up a chair next to Harry.

“No, uh, I tend to rush in class and misspell words or forget important elements, Padma lets me go over her notes to make sure I got it all right.” Ron admitted, flushing in embarrassment.

“That’s a great system, Ron!” Harry grinned, pulling out his potions homework. “Just like our little system we have going here!”

“Oh?” Ron quirked a brow, leaning forward in curiosity.

“I take to taking the best notes in Charms, along with Theo when he isn’t stuck in detention,” Pansy rolled her eyes angrily, “Blaise takes on Transfiguration, Harry Defense, and Draco with Potions. But since we’ve decided to include every house at Hogwarts in our study sessions,” Harry rolled his eyes good naturally at Pansy’s teasing jab, “Hermione fills us in on Herbology and pronunciation in the other classes, and Dean helps with wand movements.”

“Padma and I could help with research!” Ron piped in, desperately wanting to be part of the study group, “we have our own Ravenclaw library in our common room, so we can help with all we can!”

“What are we helping, Ronald?” Padma piped up as she materialized right behind Ron, giving him a start as he jumped in his seat.

“Study group, Patil,” Pansy drawled, quirking her brow, “wanna help us all out with your Ravenclaw wit?”

“For sure,” Padma grinned, actually looking relieved, “Ron and I have been on our own with studying mostly, it would be nice to have fresh insight from others perspective!”

“We also can help with History of Magic,” Ron offered, “we found that having coffee right before the class helps us be more alert and take better notes!”

“That’s brilliant!” Blaise laughed, his face morphing from the scary Slytherin mask to a genuine smile, “we were going to give up on that class, but now we have a chance at getting O’s all around!”

The group all quietly cheered, fearing being kicked out from Madam Pince.

  
  
  
  
  


“So Hermione,” Hannah Abbott tried to make conversation as the group of Hufflepuff first year girls made their way to breakfast, “how did you know the answer to Professor Quirrell’s question on ghouls the other day?”

“Yeah, none of us have been able to keep track in that class!” Megan Jones exclaimed. 

“Oh I’ve been in a study group!” Hermione explained enthusiastically before realizing her housemates would be more terrified than enthused.

“Oh,” the three girls who actually were nice enough to talk to her muttered, “you’re still hanging around with those Slytherins?” Susan Bones piped up, her eyes wide with fear.

Hermione rolled her shoulders back, trying not to get too defensive.

“Yes, they are all actually really nice, you are welcome to join us if you’d like.”

The girls all tensed and tried to come up with some polite excuse, Hermione’s heart falling in the meantime. She should have known better, Hufflepuff’s were notorious for avoiding Slytherins at all costs. She could understand, especially as a Muggleborn, but her friends weren’t like the others! They had proven themselves to her, shown her how much they actually valued her friendship and were just genuinely kind to her. 

She glanced up and caught Pansy’s eye from the Slytherin table, smiling sadly at the dark haired girl. Pansy’s smile dipped a little at the sight of Hermione’s obvious sadness, she tried to smile as comfortingly as she could back. 

The Huflepuff’s had Charms that morning, much to Hermione’s relief. She enjoyed the class and the professor who taught it, he was a very enthusiastic man who loved to pick her out when asking a question. After that class she would have a free period to study and then it would be the Halloween feast! She had listened to Ron Weasley gush about the different kinds of foods they would be serving, his older brothers had spun stories about the delicious meals they had ingested in years past. Even though the red haired boy was a little bit too annoying for her tastes, she could get behind his excitement and enthusiasm for the feast.

“Alright class, settle down now!” Professor Flitwick called out to the class as they filed into their seats and got their quills and parchment out. “We are going to be continuing with our lesson in the  _ Wingardium Leviosa _ charm with the feathers I have supplied you all with.”

Hermione picked her feather up with a smile, squirming in her seat from the excitement to try out the new spell.

“Pair up into groups of two, with the person sitting next to you, and help each other practice the spell!”

Hermione glanced over to ask Hannah if she wanted to pair up, But the girl had already turned to Susan, the two giggling at some sort of inside joke. Scowling, Hermione turned to see Justin Finch-Fletchy without a partner.

“Hello Granger,” Justin muttered, his nose upturned in distaste, “let’s get this over with.”

“Alright…” Hermione mumbled, trying to shove aside the frustration and tears welling up.

They went through the wand movements, after Hermione explained that Justin didn’t need to viciously stab the air to get the charm to work. The boy had too much pride, even when Flitwick rewarded Hermione with points for getting her movements correct. Justin made up some excuse, that she was cheating and couldn’t get such a spell down at first, but Hermione just chose to ignore him-- she had heard worse accusations before.

“ _ Wingardium LeviosA! _ ” Justin chanted, quickly getting frustrated after the twelfth time of not getting his feather to even budge.

“Justin! You're not pronouncing it correctly!” Hermione’s fuse finally blew, her need to correct the boy taking over, “It’s LeviOsa not LeviosA!”

“Oh yeah?” Justin snapped, folding his arms across his chest as he slumped back in his seat. “Let’s see you do it then!”

Hermione scowled and focused on the correct wand movements and pronunciation, earning her a rewarding smile from the professor and her feather floating above everyone’s heads. Every time Hermione performed magic, a thrilling set of goosebumps went up her spine. She would remember the angry looks and mean comments she got from bullies at her muggle school and grin at how she could perform magic of all things, that she was talented and great. She took great pride in her studies, it wasn’t the only thing motivating her though, but she enjoyed learning and proving herself worthy.

The class came to an end after that, with the girls actually congratulating her and asking for help on their wand movements. It warmed her heart, she knew they would turn around and not be so snobby and weird around her. As she packed up her supplies, Justin and his friends shoved past her whispering loudly,

“It’s no wonder she has no friends, they only want her for her mind. She’s so bloody annoying!”

Something cracked inside her, her heart seemed to be crumbling to itty bitty pieces as great big sobs heaved their way up her chest painfully. She grabbed her books and shoved past them, needing to get away from everyone and just be alone. She ran for what felt like hours before she stumbled across a bathroom in an empty corridor.

She threw her books to the floor and crumpled to a heap on the ground, sobbing into her hands. Everything hurt, and she didn’t know how to make it all stop. Her breathing had picked up and she found that her head felt dizzy and she couldn’t breathe. Panic was crawling up her throat and she couldn’t stop bloody crying! 

She was so done with trying, for even caring about her housemates opinion in the first place. She just wanted friends, but what if the friends she had already made only cared about her brain and not for her as a person? She didn’t know what to do if she was all alone, especially in the world she thought she would be so easily accepted into. She had hoped that the magical world would be different from the bullying and harassment she got in the muggle world, but here she was still the strange and annoying girl.

It felt like hours went by of painful, heaving breaths and sobbing all the moisture out of her body. She couldn’t even be disgusted by crying on the bathroom floor, she didn;t want to move and go anywhere. She finally got up and decided to wash her face from the dried tears, hoping it would make her feel better.

As she twisted the tap on, a sudden loud noise echoed from down the hall. The mirror in front of her warbled and shook, freezing her movements as another loud noise seemed to shake the room again. Slowly she turned and stared at the door, eyes wide in fear of what could be coming her way.

A loud boom shook the stall doors, this time coming from right outside the door. Hermione shuffled backwards and hid inside the last stall, her hands shaking as she scrunched herself in a ball on top of the toilet.

“If you die,” the ghost of Moaning Myrtle appeared right next to her, “I’ll share a toilet with you.”

Hermione had no time to retort as the bathroom door swung open with a loud smack. She jumped as an overpowering, awful smell filtered through the small bathroom. She gagged into her hand, trying to breath through her mouth as a loud growl shook the bathroom. With wide eyes, Hermione watched as a large troll smashed his club into the first stall.

She screamed in horror, envisioning her own body smashing to pieces underneath the trolls enraged fists, not being able to do anything about it. Fear had her limbs locked and stuck in place as the troll swung his club again and smashed it into the first set of sinks. 

“Hermione!” A voice shouted out for her.

Hermione finally found the courage to move, right as the troll smashed his club down on the stall she had been stuck in. She screamed and scrambled for the sink across from her, desperate to get away. She glanced up to see Harry trying to get the trolls attention, Draco trying to fling spells and curses at the beast, and Ron trying to beckon her to crawl towards him. But what was more shocking of a sight was Susan Bones yelling for Hermione, her face bright red and tears streaming down her petite face. 

Harry was finally able to distract the troll by stupidly flinging himself on top of the stinky troll and wrestling with it.

“Bloody hell!” Draco shouted, pointing his wand at the club, “ _ Wingardium Leviosa!” _ he cried, levitating the club and smashing it down on the troll’s fat head.

Hermione cried out as the troll toppled over with Harry on it’s back. The Slytherin rolled off with ease and grabbed Hermione’s shaking hands.

“Come on, Mione, let’s get you out of here.”

Hermione was too overwhelmed by the kindness and bravery of her friends. She watched as Susan explained to Professor McGonagall that Justin had insulted her and why Hermione had been in the bathroom all that time, Draco showed how he had used Wingardium Leviosa to beat the troll over the head, and Harry and Ron explained why they went after her because she wasn’t aware of a troll being on the loose. They lost a couple points, but that didn’t matter as much to Hermione, her heart was slowly healing itself as Draco held onto her hand in a death grip and Ron kept looking at her with concerned glances.

“I’m so sorry, Hermione,” Susan finally blurted out as they made their way to their dormitory. “I should have stood up for you and believed you about the Slytherins! Harry was so adamant on saving you, he wasn’t evil at all! They were all so nice and brave, I’m sorry for thinking badly about you.”

Hermione lost count of how much she had cried that day, but she was glad these tears weren’t tears of grief but tears of joy.

“You don’t have to apologize, thank you for wanting to save me.”

Susan wept suddenly and flung herself at Hermione, wrapping her arms around the bushy haired girl in a tight hug.

“You scared me! Promise to never be in a life ending situation like that ever again!”

“I’ll try.” Hermione giggled as Susan wove their fingers together.

“Do you want to join in on our discussions? We like to quiz each other on certain subjects and with your help from your other study group, it would be very helpful for the rest of us!”

Hermione grinned brightly, ecstatic over the turn of events.

“I would love to, Susan.”

“Yay!” Susan cheered, swinging their hands, “let’s start over and be friends, does that sound good?”

“Of course!”


	5. Harry "I-Attract-Danger" Potter Strikes Again

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In this alternate timeline from the books, Padma and Ron make a plan of sneaking into the third floor corridor, Draco learns to become his own person by little baby steps, Hermione has the support from her friends when faced with blatant bigotry, and the first quidditch match of the season begins!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey y'all! here's a new chapter to dig into during this pandemic! i hope you all are staying safe and sane during this time and that this new chapter helps!

“You’re sure it could have been from what was behind the door?” Padma questioned, her brow scrunched in disbelief.

“I swear on it! Snape was limping, he had a cut on his leg!” Ron hissed, trying not to attract the attention of the third year Slytherins across from them in the library.

“That’s just odd though…” Padma muttered, biting her nails worriedly. “First there’s Professor Quirrell who’s poking around and now Professor Snape, could they be working together on getting to whatever is hidden back there?”

“I don’t know…” Ron pondered, trying to think of a logical explanation for why the two professors would want to get behind the door if Dumbledore had made it strictly necessary that nobody go wandering around it. “Snape is an evil, greasy git so I can understand why he would do something so sinister.”

Padma smacked his arm, scowling at him as he shouted at the smack.

“What was that for?!”

“Just because Professor Snape doesn’t have a tolerance for children doesn’t make him evil! It just makes him inept at his job!”

“Whatever…” Ron grumbled, picking his quill up again, “Let’s finish this homework so I don’t have to do it tomorrow after the quidditch match.”

“That’s it!” Padma exclaimed, getting a series of death glares from surrounding students. “We have to go and look at the third floor corridor while everyone is at the match!”

“Why would we do that?! I can’t miss the match!” Ron hysterically threw his hands in the air, his eyes the size of saucers.

“We can miss the beginning of it, don’t worry. This is our only chance to do so since everyone will be out at the match and we can have free reign to look around!” Padma explained, leaning forward conspiratorially.

Grumbling to himself, Ron couldn’t deny the genius of the idea.

“We could go at night?” He suggested, still wanting a chance at the quidditch match.

“We’d surely get caught, this gives us a better chance at not getting detention!”

“Fine,” Ron spat, “But we are  _ not  _ missing the next match!”

“Whatever.” Padma rolled her eyes.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I can’t believe you went to my parents dentistry and we never met!” Hermione exclaimed, her eyes wide and arms flailing in passion as she chatted with Dean Thomas.

Draco kept glancing between the two muggle borns in half-hearted disdain. His newfound friend in Gryffindor was quickly warming up to his other friends, but Dean and Hermione seemed to hit it off too well… They had a lot of commonalities in the muggle world apparently, they lived a couple blocks from each other, they had gone to the same primary school until Dean’s mum switched him to another one across town, and their parents vaguely knew each other. 

Draco exchanged a look with Susan and Hannah, the two Hufflepuffs in Hermione’s house, getting a similar horrified glance in return. Draco was glad that the Hufflepuffs had warmed up to Hermione, he wouldn’t have been as nice to them if they had continued to look at him in veiled fear and suspicion. He tried his hardest to be polite and well-mannered with them, trying to prove himself for Hermione.

Susan Bones was by far his favorite, the girl was smart and not afraid to speak what was on her mind. In a way, the mousy-faced girl reminded him of Hermione; the two had very innocent and sweet faces but were secretly as wicked as any Slytherin he knew underneath. 

“We could have been friends so long before this!” Dean laughed, his eyes tracking Draco’s uncomfortable movements. “We should be getting back to the common room, Percy is super strict on first years getting back to the common room.”

It was mostly the truth, Percy Weasley was insufferable with his rules and enforcing authority on those younger and smaller than him. Unfortunately he lacked a certain kind of personality to pull it off, he was too awkward and got offended way too easily at silly little jokes. He was basically a big joke to the Gryffindor Tower, nobody ever actually listened to him or took him seriously.

Hermione pouted her lower lip, her eyes darting between the two of them. It was apparent that even though the Hufflepuff’s had warmed up to her, Hermione still valued her friendships with those outside of her house-- Draco wholeheartedly agreed, their little band of misfits were actually starting to warm up to him. He had been the only child growing up and was always left to fend for himself, it was nice to have friends who cared for him and could take the reigns of responsibility every now and then.

She flung her arms around him, wishing him a good evening. It was a regular occurance for Hermione to be so openly affectionate with everyone, but Draco’s heart swelled everytime she showed an ounce of kindness towards him. He could imagine in another lifetime, where he had accepted his role as a Slytherin heir to the Malfoy family, that he would have absolutely hated her just for being muggleborn and smarter than him. 

Dean tugged at his sleeve to follow him as the Hufflepuff girls grouped together and made their way down to their dormitory. 

“Do you fancy Hermione?” Dean asked suddenly.

“What?!” Draco’s voice cracked as he shrieked. “Bloody hell, no! She’s my friend, and she thinks the same as me!”

“How do you know?” Dean scrunched his brow. “All girls are so giggly and teasing-like, it looks like she likes you.”

“Not all girls are like that,” Draco drawled, “Millicent Bulstrode would punch you in the face for that.”

Dean was silent for a moment, the sound of their shoes tapping across the cobblestone stairs echoed off the walls and paintings. A particularly miserable woman in her portrait hanging above Sir Edgar Kettleburn shot the two of them a dirty scowl, her nose stuck up in the air as she sniffed loudly in disdain.

“Are you going to tell me why you’ve been so quiet the last two days?” Dean asked, looking anywhere but at Draco.

Stuffing his clenched fists into his pockets, Draco reminded himself how he could trust his newfound friends with such overbearing thoughts.

“My father is coming to watch the quidditch match this weekend,” Draco muttered, grinding his molars painfully, “to openly support Slytherin.”

Dean glanced up at the blonde, his brows scrunched into an angry, tight line and creating dips and wrinkles in his forehead. His hands noticeably twitched as if in an effort to reach forward and grab Draco’s hand in a show of physical support. Draco hid his flushed expression at the show of support, unsure if he wanted to break the awkward air and reach forward for Dean’s hand first.

“You haven’t talked to him since before you left, right?”

“Yeah,” Draco whispered painfully, blinking away the tears, “mother hasn’t been able to talk with me either…”

“I’m sorry Draco,” Dean finally made eye contact with his newfound friend. “I’ll be by your side the entire time. He won’t be able to hurt you, not on the grounds of Hogwarts anyways, and especially not on my watch!”

Only Blaise, Theo, and Pansy had openly spoken about their distaste in Lucius Malfoy’s utterly horrendous ways of parenting. Nobody could do anything about it though, not without being extremely forward and breaking all ties of friendship between them. The three of his friends had been a comfort to him behind closed doors, distracting him from how awfully he was treated when his mother couldn’t. But it was nice to see someone, who hadn’t known him since he could barely walk, express their outrage and want to do something about it-- even if it was something crazy like threatening to fight his father. Tears welled up in Draco’s eyes at the open show of support, his earlier anxieties fading to the foreground as he reached over and grabbed Dean’s hand, giving it a quick squeeze of appreciation.

“You know, I have an idea of what you can do to really piss him off more. You said that your father is a very anal person about your hair, right?” Dean piped up, squeezing Draco’s hand with his own warm and slightly sweaty one.

Draco smirked conspiratorially, knocking shoulders with his friend.

“Oh yes, why do you ask?”

“I wonder what your hair looks like without all that grease slicking it back…”

  
  
  
  
  


“Have you seen Draco Malfoy’s new hairstyle?!” Megan Jones squealed, her apparent fear of him now turning into an obvious crush when Hermione was deemed un-evil for hanging out with the boy.

“I didn’t realize his hair was so wavy…” Hannah piped in, her cheeks rosy with embarrassment.

“My mum knew his mum’s side of the family, apparently the Black’s all had really wavy hair.” Susan stated, shovelling a forkful of her pancakes into her mouth, “He looks a lot like the Malfoy side of the family, but with hair like that he takes after the Black side.”

Hermione grinned at the information, glad to know that there was something about her friend that he could use to defy his father. Draco did look rather fetching without all that grease slicking his hair back, his bangs framed his brow and made his face look softer. It was a good look, but Hermione wasn’t all rosy-cheeked over it: Draco was her best friend for Merlin’s sake!

“Hermione!” Susan piped up, facing the curly haired witch as strawberry jam dribbled down her round chin, “want to get a head start for the greenhouse? You were going to show me your notes from yesterday!”

“Sure,” Hermione took a last sip of her tea, “let’s go!”

Hermione was glad to be getting along with her other dorm and house mates, but Susan was probably her favorite of them all so far. The girl was sweet but she also had a really blunt tongue and a sense of humor that made Harry’s jokes look miniscule compared to hers. It was also nice to know that there was another Hufflepuff that wasn’t the epitome of sunshine and daisies, Susan absolutely hated Herbology and was actual shite at it while the majority of Hufflepuff thrived in the greenhouse and with their head of house.

“‘Mione, did we take a wrong turn?” Susan questioned as they came around a foreign corridor.

“Blast! I keep forgetting to turn at the first left once we came down from the set of stairs!” Hermione grumbled, smacking her forehead in frustration.

“Hopefully we aren’t late!” Susan exclaimed, a look of horror paling her face, “Professor Sprout will be so mad!”

“Here, grab my hand,” Hermione shuffled her books over to her right hand, extending her left towards Susan to grab, “let’s hurry!”

The two girls frantically ran back the way they had come, trying to remember which corridor they had been in last.

“I cannot remember for the life of me what Professor Sprout said about The Devil’s Snare and how to repel it… it just doesn’t stick in my head!” Susan groaned as they jogged down the set of stairs towards the dungeons and greenhouses.

“Remember, The Devil’s Snare is affected by the light and the more you squirm in its grasp it just tightens its hold.” Hermione explained, turning a corner and tugging at Susan to pick up her stride.

“I’ll try and remember that,” Susan rolled her eyes with a chuckle, “but how do you explain--”

“What are you Hufflepuff’s doing down here?” 

Hermione whipped around to see a group of fifth year Slytherins stalking towards them.

“W-We are just g-going to c-class.” Susan stuttered, her eyes wide at the realization that they were cornered in a dark corridor that they didn’t recognize.

“Can you speak properly, blood traitor?” The leader of the group snapped.

“Let us go, we need to get to class and we haven’t done anything to you lot!” Hermione exclaimed, trying to put her best brave face on, hiding the trembling in her hands by clenching her wand tighter.

“Ickle Mudbloods better learn their place,” one of the boys sneered.

“Not to go sneaking around in our dungeons where they don’t belong!” A shorter boy piped in darkly.

“You don’t belong here at Hogwarts at all,  _ mudblood _ .”

Tears threatened to pour down her cheeks, but Hermione was shaking with the effort to hold them back. She couldn’t let another set of bullies get to her, not again.

“Hey!” A voice cut through the snickering and insults. “Bugger off!”

Harry came around the corner, his face dark with anger and fury at seeing the older Slytherins cornering his friends.

“Harry Potter can’t come saving every little mudblood every time--”

“Mr. Knockings,” Snape stepped out of the shadows, his normally peeved off expression was more twisted and darker as he addressed his students. “Detention for two weeks for using derogatory language. Mr. Potter, one week for shouting incessantly.”

“But the quidditch match, Professor!” The gang leader, Knockings, exclaimed in fury and indignation.

“You shouldn’t have even been put on the team in the first place, you will be doing the team and our house a favor.” Snape snapped, waving his hand to dismiss the older students. “Get out of my sight.”

“Five points from Hufflepuff for being late to class, Miss Granger, Miss Bones.” Snape muttered before darting back towards the corridor where he came from.

“He usually takes twenty points from other houses,” Susan pointed out, “I think we should take that as a compliment.”

“Are you alright, ‘Mione?” Harry rushed forward, clasping his hands on Hermione’s shoulders, instantly rubbing his thumbs soothingly into her skin.

Her lip warbled and the tears still threatened to pore down her cheeks, but she felt immensely better with Harry there. She flung her arms around him, relishing in the warmth of her friend.

“Thank you, Harry.” She mumbled into his shoulder.

He squeezed her waist back, hugging her tighter to his form.

“Of course, ‘Mione.” Harry mumbled into her head of hair.

“Are you sure you’re okay, Granger?” Blaise inquired, his expression one of disinterest, but his eyes were cold and angry as he peered down at her imploringly.

“I-I’m fine…. Was that a bad word? The one that they said about me?”

A strangled sound came from behind her, Susan rushed forward and wrapped her arms around Hermione’s torso.

“It’s a word to describe somebody's blood status as a muggle-born witch or wizard,” Pansy muttered, her normally expressional face was pulled tight in a scowl, her hands clenched at her side. “We’ve all grown up knowing that word, but it’s a horrible name to call somebody like you, ‘Mione.” Her voice was quiet and chipped as she finally made eye contact with Hermione.

“I-I’m sorry I got so scared,” Susan whimpered, her face buried in Hermione’s mane of curls, “They were so scary and mean, I should have stood up for you.”

“Don’t apologize, Sue!” Hermione felt like crying again, but this time out of joy at her newfound friend wanting to stand up for her.

“If you’re ever in any danger from older kids from our house, just run or call for me,” Harry said, rolling his thin shoulders back in a show of confidence, “Slytherins don’t fight in public, they should listen to me.”

“I don’t want you getting in trouble later in your common room because of me, Harry!” 

The thought sent chills rippling across Hermione’s spine, the image of Harry being beaten up and left to die in some shady part of the common room had tears welling up once again. Schoolyard bullies always tended to bully Hermione with words and insults while the defenseless boys just got hit and beat up, she couldn’t stand for one of her friends to receive such treatment on account of her.

“Don’t worry about him,” Pansy spoke up fiercely, the first flicker of real emotion lighting her dark eyes with a fiery passion. “He’s got Blaise and I with him, even Theo when he can get his face out of a book.”

Without thinking of it, Hermione found her feet bounding towards the dark haired girl where she flung her arms around her neck and squeezed her close in a rather stiff hug. Pansy just stood there, not knowing what to do at the sudden show of emotion. Feeling awkward, Hermione parted from the girl as the scent of cinnamon and the musky scent of sage stuck in her memory.

“Thank you,” she croaked, “for trying to save me and being there for Harry. I can‘t imagine how hard it is for you, Harry, to get all the attention that you do.”

With bright pink cheeks, Pansy smiled reservedly at the bushy haired girl, nodding her head as the words seemed to have escaped her.

  
  
  
  
  
  


Harry had watched the quidditch teams practicing for their first matches for weeks, ignoring the flutter of jealousy at seeing the older students fly with ease. It wasn’t surprising that Harry was rather good at the Flying class Madam Hooch taught, he had gotten several points for Slytherin and declarations of praise within weeks of the class beginning. He and Draco were the best of the class by far, which was super fun because they would try and race each other or do little flips when Madam Hooch wasn’t looking.

But now was the first quidditch match, Slytherin against Gryffindor, and Harry was bursting with excitement. Blaise and Pansy didn’t share his excitement in anything flying or sports related, but Theo would quietly converse with him on the subject while Millicent Bulstrode talked strategies with more excitement and passion than he had ever seen in a person.

Harry watched the Slytherin team all eat and converse, seeming to ignore the excitement that the entire school was buzzing with. Most of the excitement was aimed at the Gryffindor team, where Fred and George Weasley stood proudly on the bench of their table and spun tall tales of crushing the Slytherins into fine dust. He couldn’t help but grin at the creativity the two had, even if the entire school was leveling his house with glares full of more animosity than usual.

“I want to see their simpering, ugly faces when we beat their bloody hypocrytical arses.” Pansy hissed into her yogurt, finally showing some sort of house pride for the quidditch game. “I may hate this bloody game, but if I have to listen to the Gryffindorks prattle on any longer I am going to curse someone!”

“Draco’s a Gryffindork, you sure you want to do that?” Harry grinned cheekily, knowing that would make her more agitated.

She smacked his arm, earning a burst of laughter from him and Blaise. 

Most of the school was decked out in colors supporting Gryffindor, with a few exceptions from Ravenclaw and Harry’s newfound friends. Hermione had a set of green clips in her hair and an olive green muggle sweater that was big and baggy on her small body. Even Hermione’s newfound friend, Susan Bones, was holding a small Slytherin flag with a charmed snake that slithered to and fro on the front. Ron, over at the Ravenclaw table, was wearing one of his brother's emerald green Christmas sweater and a red scarf in support for both teams. Padma, the only Ravenclaw who seemed to genuinely like Ron and had befriended him, was wearing a scarf charmed to be both red and green.

The stands of the stadium were enormous. Harry stared up at the top booth, the designated section for the Professors, and gulped as a gust of wind seemed to shift the entire stand. Harry wasn’t afraid of heights, but he could admit his new oncoming fear of unreliable support beneath his feet. Nobody else seemed to share his trepidation, his Slytherin housemates continued to clomp noisily up to the very top of the stands.

“It’s surrounded by magic, Harry!” Pansy just laughed, snorting in amusement when he just continued to scowl down at the wobbly planks beneath them.

“Even though Dumbledore’s a giant nitwit,” Blaise muttered, quiet enough so a prefect didn’t overhear him, “he wouldn’t purposefully endanger students like that.”

“If you are all so bloody sure then let me stand in between you two so that if I fall I can bring you all down with me!” Harry shoved his way to stand next to Pansy at Blaise’s side.

“I will protect you from the evil planks, Harry-kins!” Pansy shrieked with laughter as she teasingly ruffled his already messy hair.

“Who needs saving?” Draco and Dean Thomas materialized out of the bright red and gold crowd to their right.

“Harry’s nervous about the stands and how they wobble.” Theo relayed, his normal poker face twisting into a sly grin.

Draco just laughed at Harry’s expense, coming up to stand next to them.

“If it makes you feel better, Harry, Dean hates the stands too. Maybe it’s a muggle thing.”

“Of course it is, Muggles have the sense to create solid and reliable fixtures!” Dean exclaimed, his face ashen and pale as he clasped onto Draco’s hand like he was his life support.

The teams all poured onto the field, blurry figures of red and green respectively. Harry could barely hear Theo and Draco making bets on who’s house would win, he was too focused on wanting to watch every second of the match that he could. Marcus Flint, an older fifth year boy was the captain based on how he had lumbered forth to shake hands hesitantly with the Gryffindor’s captain, Oliver Wood. The two sized each other up, which was a funny sight since Oliver was almost two sizes shorter than Marcus. The Slytherin captain was broadly built and thick, some people even gossiped that he was thick in the head from one too many concussions caused by stray bludgers.

As the game began and brooms flew up into the air in fluid movements, Harry tried to keep an eye on the Snitch. Everyone was all so focused on the action, the Gryffindors cheering in tandem for Angelina Johnson and Katie Bell who were throwing the quaffle back and forth with practiced movements and ease. 

“You have to admit it, Theo!” Draco yelled over the loud ruckus of the crowd, all of them cheering for the ten points scored by Katie Bell. “Katie and Angelina are bloody AMAZING!”

“Says the biased prat.”

Harry couldn’t stop the grin from spreading across his flushed face, he had a group of friends and he was watching a bloody amazing game.

  
  
  
  
  
  


“ _ Alohomora!” _

“Shhhh!” Ron hissed in Padma’s ear, swivelling his head back and forth in the hall. 

“You shush! You spat in my ear, Ronald!” Padma whispered harshly, her eyes dark with concentrated fury. “I should have  _ you  _ practicing your spell work on this lock instead!”

She cast the spell once more, earning the rewarding sound of the lock clicking open. 

“I swear, if Filch catches us and whatever is behind this door kills us, I will kill  _ you _ for making me miss the match!”

“Oh shut up! We are getting answers,” Padma swatted his shoulder, “now, get your wand out and ready a spell for whatever might be behind this door. It could be dangerous.”

Suddenly as a rush of fear flooded his gut, Ron clambored for Padma’s hand, squeezing it so tight his hand was whiter than usual. Padma scowled down at his hand before glancing up at his face. Her features softened and she squeezed back, rolling her shoulders back she let go of his hand and aimed her wand at the door.

“You ready?”

“Y-Yeah.”

The door swung open and both first years froze in shock. Standing in the doorway of the small, cramped room was a ginormous three headed dog. Ron’s eyes widened in fear as the dogs' heads swivelled towards them and begun to snarl.

“Oh fu--”

“ _ Wingardium Leviosa! _ ” Padma screeched, waving her wand as the dog started to lunge.

The dog’s snouts were inches away from Ron’s face as the levitating charm whipped the dog up into the air and thudded against the ceiling. In shock, Ron’s knees wobbled against each other as he stared up at the thrashing beast, trying to get it’s way out of the charm so that it could swallow them whole.

“Ronald! Go and look inside the trap door! Quickly, I can’t hold it much longer!” Padma yelled, her wand arm visibly shaking.

Ron dashed forward and slid in front of the trap door. With shaking hands, he threw open the door and glanced inside to only see darkness. 

“ _ Lumos _ !” Ron casted correctly, inwardly preening at the correct pronunciation this time around.

The light illuminated the small room to reveal a swarm of plants all recoiling from the light. As the vines slithered and shrivelled away from the light, Ron’s eye happened to catch sight of the golden gleam of a doorknob below. 

“Ron!” Padma screamed.

Suddenly the charm broke and the giant dog came falling towards the floor. Ron scrambled up and dashed towards the door, right as the dog lunged at the spot he had been at before.

“Close it! Close it!” Ron screamed.

The door swung closed with a bang as Padma shoved the locking bar over the handle, jumping back in fear as the dog smashed against the door on the other side, shaking the whole frame.

“What the  _ bloody hell _ ?!” Ron exclaimed, wheezing through panicked gasps for air.

“Filch is coming! I hear Mrs. Norris!” Padma hissed, grabbing Ron’s sleeve and tugging him forward. 

It was a good thing that the Ravenclaw tower was just a floor above and the staircase decided not to change its course on them. They scrambled up the steps as the sound of Filch’s shouting echoed against the walls below. 

_ “What goes up but never moves? _ ” The Ravenclaw knocker elegantly asked.

“Why does our common room have to be the one that speaks in bloody riddles?!” Ron exclaimed, almost tearing his hair out of his head.

“The temperature! Now let us in!” Padma shrieked, pulling Ron through the doors once they swivelled open.

Thankful for the match continuing its course and freeing up the tower of students, Ron and Padma collapsed on the common room loveseats in a heap of nerves and anxiety. Ron flopped face forward and screamed into the pillow, trying to scream out the emotions that had overwhelmed him in the last few minutes.

“What did you see behind the trapdoor?” Padma asked after a beat of silence where the two caught their breath.

“A room full of plants, but they recoiled from my Lumos. There was another door beneath them though.”

“That’s odd…” Padma murmured, scrunching her brow to try and figure the puzzle out. “It must have been Devil’s Snare, we just learned about that last week and their weakness is sunlight!”

“That would make sense,” Ron mumbled, “but what doesn’t, is why Dumbledore has a bloody three headed dog in a castle full of kids!”

“I know…” Padma’s lip warbled for a split second, “it must be guarding something underneath the second door.”

“Whatever it is must be bloody important or I will tell my mother, and I don’t do that  _ ever _ !”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco cheered and screamed as the Gryffindor seeker caught the snitch, winning them the match by a mere ten points. He had been a fan of the sport ever since he could remember, and now being in the house that he felt comfortable in he wanted to have pride for his team. 

It was also a show for Lucius sitting rows away, glaring daggers at his new hairstyle and his red and gold scarf. Draco couldn’t find it in himself to give a damn.

Theo and Blaise mumbled and cursed good-naturally, rolling their eyes at the other Gryffindors starting to flood the field and cheering like maniacs. It had Draco laughing at how amazing he felt, the wonderful feeling of being free of his father’s expectations and enjoying a game with his friends who weren’t just political allies.

He turned to Harry, ready to throw good-natured jeers at him when suddenly the bleachers beneath the dark haired boy splintered and broke. Draco wobbled in place, almost in slow motion as his foot almost caught and threw his body forward. Blaise was able to grab the back of his shirt and yank him back to the safety of his friend’s arms. But no one had been as close to Harry as Draco was, who was now tumbling towards the ground fifty feet in the air.

“ _ Harry! _ ” He screamed, horrified at the sight before him and how he didn’t know a spell to save his new friend.

Right before Harry hit the ground, a spell caught him and slowly lowered him to the grassy ground. Draco took off down the stairs, throwing off Blaise’s hand and ignoring Pansy’s cries, and tried to beat the crowd of concerned professors and obsessed students to Harry’s strewn body. He jumped off the last several steps, his ankle popping as he skidded on it wrong, but he ignored it and ran towards Harry. 

“Harry! Oh my god, Harry are you alright?!” He cried, sliding to his knees at Harry’s side.

Harry was unconscious, possibly from passing out in fear, but it did nothing to quell Draco’s anxieties. He needed to see Harry open his eyes, to see the emerald green blink up at him and assure him with his own voice that he was fine. Because as Draco held Harry’s body in his arms, it felt like he was dead.

“Mister. Malfoy! Are you okay?” Professor McGonagall cried as she approached the two.

“H-He’s not waking up! P-Professor, he’s not waking up!” 

“Pass him over, Mister Malfoy, we will get him to Madam Pomfrey.” Professor McGonagall instructed, her voice wavering just slightly, betraying the mask of confidence she always wore.

With shaking hands, Draco turned and allowed the other professor’s to float Harry’s body out from under the stands and into the school. Shell shocked, Draco eye caught sight of his father standing on the edge of the gathering crowd, and his previous confidence vanished like it hadn’t been there before. He was so scared and nervous, for Harry and for himself, he couldn’t move.

“Mister Malfoy, follow me please, we will get you a calming draught.” McGonagall placed a hand on his shoulder and pushed him forward.

Draco couldn’t look his father in the eye again, he was too scared and ashamed at his cowardice. He was in the house of the brave for Merlin’s sake! Why was he acting like such a pansy!

“I can hear your brain kicking in gear, Mister Malfoy,” Professor McGonagall spoke up as they parted from the large crowds, “everyone gets scared in their life. I get scared myself, like just now.”

“You didn’t look scared!” Draco almost shouted, his hysteria rising to the top.

She smirked, a weird look on her bold face, “I have more experience covering it up than you.”

Still scowling and reveling in the fear he had felt so strongly in the span of two minutes, Draco couldn’t fight the tears from his eyes. He lowered his head and tried to hide within himself as he let the tears drip down his cheeks

“Draco, I promise you I will find you a better home.” Professor McGonagall spoke quietly, her voice low and soothing in its assurance.


	6. A Very Jewish, Weasley, Holiday Celebration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A lot happens for the group! Dean invites Draco to spend the holidays with him, Hermione get's to relish in the warmth of having such good friends, Harry get's his assurance in trusting his Slytherin roommates, and Ron get's to enjoy the holiday season without being shamed for his celebration of Hannukah!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so it's been a while! I had a bit of a writer's block and I didn't want to publish something shitty and unmeaningful for you all, so I took some time to work on my real life projects and address some mental health stuff. Adulting sucks y'all, don't grow up !! But I wanted to celebrate the finishing of my real life novel by finishing up this chapter for you guys! I'm so excited to keep working on this series, now that the stress of finishing my novel is over with and I can dedicate some time into writing this series.
> 
> this is a really long chapter!! I didn't want to put it into two different chapters because I couldn't find a way to make it flow right, there was so much that needed to be explained and addressed, so I worked for months, through bouts of anxiety and taking breaks to focus on adult stuff. Here is the next installment of this series!

  
  


Chapter 5: A Very Jewish, Weasley Holiday Celebration

  
  
  


“Dear Merlin, Hermione! Just shut up already about Snape trying to kill Harry!” Draco exclaimed, his normally wavy blonde locks now frizzy as he ran a hand through it aggravatingly.

Draco had once told Hermione that a Malfoy never was supposed to raise his voice like so in public, especially in the library of all places! The heads of students sitting nearby whirled around and stared at the large amassed group who were hogging the largest table, which included two other small square tables merged together, to fit the group of students sporting different colored ties. 

Mouth open wide in shock and outrage, Hermione scowled and crossed her arms in irritation. They had been in the middle of doing school work when Hermione had brought up the topic of discussion, her curious nature needing answers and to discuss them with her friends. She felt very passionate about it, especially after the horrific sensation that had twisted in her stomach when she saw Harry fall from the quidditch stands.

“I’ll have you know,  _ Draco _ , that I am in fact  _ not _ blind!” She shrilly exclaimed, causing Pansy to snort and wrinkle her pug-like face up in glee. “I saw Professor Snape whispering an incantation and looking at Harry! You have to keep steady eye contact with the subject you want to curse in order for it to work, and he wasn’t blinking!”

Their group was silent, staring back and forth between the two like they were about to start throwing punches.

“I’m not saying you’re blind! It’s just a dumb theory! He could have been trying to save Harry!” Draco’s face was going red as he clenched his fists angrily.

“Snape also doesn’t seem to like me that much either…” Harry pointed out, earning a mean look from Draco.

Hermione nodded her head furiously in agreement. Even though she wasn’t in the same potions class as him, she had seen the numerous times where Professor Snape seemed to pick a random thing to blame Harry for and deduct points, whether it be for talking too loudly in the halls or for his naturally messy hair. It was unfair, especially since he treated the Slytherins like his own children.

“Maybe it’s your messy hair.” Blaise teased.

Hermione opened her mouth to retort on Harry’s behalf, she had messy hair herself! She and Harry were darker skinned than the others, obviously having more ethnic backgrounds which meant their hair was different than everyone else's in texture and style. It wasn’t something to tease somebody about, in her opinion.

“Or your bloody  _ horrendous  _ glasses.” Theo piped in, a wide and devious smirk on his face.

“Now you are being unfair!” Hermione exclaimed, “I think your glasses are rather dashing, Harry.” She complimented, Harry’s face suddenly turned a bright shade of red.

“Or your ability to look like a hunchback when you slouch like that,” Pansy sneered, jokingly, “you’d think you were raised in a shack!”

Hermione scowled at the sudden pained expression on Harry’s face that vanished as quickly as it came.

“The point is,” Draco glared at his friends, who were all guffawing and playfully nudging Harry, “Snape doesn’t hate any of his own snakes.”

The Slytherins sobered up and nodded their heads in agreement.

“I would know, he’s my godfather.” Draco muttered, his face looking slightly pale.

“Draco!” Hermione exclaimed, suddenly feeling sick at her accusations, “why didn’t you say anything earlier?! You have to tell McGonagall so that she could find a way of letting you live with him!”

The blonde’s cheeks flared a bright, blushing red as he hunched into his body to shy away from the sudden gaping stares from their group.

“Well I  _ tried _ but you wouldn’t bloody shut up!” Draco exclaimed.

“Well tell me next time, would you?! Even if I’m being a bigheaded prat!” Hermione felt like crying, she had inadvertently made him feel bad and pushed into a corner.

“She has a point,” Pansy somberly spoke, “he really could take you in.”

“But you know that he and my father are into the same  _ interests _ , Pans.” He hissed, eyeing her dangerously.

Scowling harder at the disgruntled and slightly abashed expression on Pansy’s face, Hermione couldn’t help but feel like the two weren’t saying something. Right before she could open her mouth and speak up, the library doors opened and in walked Ron and Padma. 

“Hullo!” Ron greeted them, smiling joyfully at the large, amassed group of Inter-House students. “What are we talking about?”

“Oh nothing,” Blaise drawled, leaning back and grinning at the redhead, “just discussing Hermione’s theories on how Professor Snape tried to kill Harry at the quidditch match.”

Suddenly, Ron’s face went as white as a sheet. Hermione would have made the distinction with a ghost, but as the ghosts of Hogwarts were all  _ transparent _ the muggle phrase didn’t make sense in this regard.

“Snape tried to kill H-Harry?!” He exclaimed, scooting closer to Harry and looking at him nervously.

“No he didn’t!” Draco yelled. “He wouldn’t do that, I know him!”

Ron’s face screwed up with anger for a second before twisting into confusion.

“But it would make sense…” He grunted as Padma elbowed him in the gut, giving him a cold glare.

“What would make sense?” Dean spoke up, looking up from his game of thumb wrestling with Susan that he was teaching her.

The two Ravenclaws glanced at each other for a moment, having a silent conversation from the looks of it, before turning back to them.

“Well, Padma noticed that Professor Snape  _ and  _ Professor Quirrell have been snooping around the third floor corridor…”

“Professor Quirrell?!” Pansy laughed, “Are you sure you saw the right person?”

“Of course I did,” Padma scowled, tucking her books even tighter against her chest, “it was odd at that and I didn’t know what to think! But I’ve continuously seen him walking along there, it’s strange because he doesn’t look very scared and nervous as he usually does…”

“I think it’s barney.” Ron spoke up, earning another scowl from his friend, “but I haven’t actually seen him there, I’ve only seen Snape after what happened on Halloween. He had a limp the next day and after what we found in there, it makes sense!”

“You looked inside the  _ forbidden _ third floor corridor?!” Hermione shrieked.

Madam Pince whipped her head up from the tower of books she was looking through, glaring daggers at their large group and hissing at them to be quiet.

“Merlin, Ron!” Padma hissed, stomping on his foot in order to silence him further, “you just don’t know when to keep your mouth shut!”

“His mouth just spilled some interesting information, you can't go back now so why don’t you open it again and tell us what’s behind the corridor door and why it has to do with Harry supposedly being targeted.” Pansy demanded, smirking as Padma scowled and blushed angrily.

“This mouth has a bloody name and is offended!”

“So what was behind it?” Harry leaned forward, his green eyes alight with mischief.

Hermione couldn’t help but roll her eyes at the lot. It was crazy that they would want to get themselves into trouble and peering into things they shouldn’t get into. But of course, she was curious and wanted to know what was behind the door, just so that she could know to keep her friends safe if they decided to go out and search for danger by themselves.

“Erm,” Ron squirmed, looking uncomfortable at the mean glare Padma was aiming at the side of his face, “it was a three headed dog.”

“A bloody cerberus is in Hogwarts?!” Blaise exclaimed.

“You all either leave or quiet down!” Madam Pince hissed at them.

Blushing madly, Hermione whispered apologies to the librarian.

“What’s a cerberus?” Harry asked, leaning forward as the group inched forward to keep their conversation private.

“Bloody hell, Harry, it’s a three headed dog!” Pansy teased.

“It’s a vicious beast, mostly used as guards like this one is being used for apparently,” Draco explained, “they are immune to music though, funny enough, since they are such vicious and crazed animals.”

“Do you think Snape knows that?” Ron paled.

“You all are driving me insane,” Draco huffed, standing up and grabbing his bag, “he is  _ not  _ out to kill Harry!”

“My scar hurts sometimes when I look at him…” Harry muttered, stopping Draco in his tracks.

“What do you mean, Harry?” Hermione scooted forward, grabbing Harry’s hands and squeezing them close.

“At the feast of the sorting ceremony, I looked up at him and my scar hurt horribly. It has never happened before, and it’s odd because people have told me that I got my scar from Voldemort,“ Hermione jumped in her seat at the name, “and I can’t help but think he has some connection there…?”

Draco and Pansy were pale, their faces drawn and somber looking. Even Blaise and Theo, who were usually so chatty were pale and quiet.  _ It must be a Slytherin thing,  _ Hermione thought to herself,  _ considering that Draco was raised to be one…. _

“Look, Harry,” Draco muttered, slowly setting a hand on the boy’s shoulder, “I’d love to discuss this with you one on one, just not  _ now _ .”

Sensing the tension in the air, Hermione leaped forward and crushed Harry with a forceful hug. He squeaked at the sudden armful of Hermione and her halo of fluffy curls in his face, but wrapped his arms slowly around her waist. Squeezing him harder, Hermione bit back the urge to cry. He was so small and thin, unlike the other boys around them. She kept picturing his face, drawn with fear and his bright green eyes wide, as he fell to his death. He would have snapped in half if Dumbledore hadn’t casted that spell that saved him. 

“Tell me when you get pain in your scar, I’ll try and do  _ everything  _ I can to make it better.” She whispered to him fervently, the overpowering urge to protect and nurture him overwhelming her poor senses.

“You bloody Hufflepuff,” Blaise teased, leaning back in his chair and into Theo’s personal space, “are you trying to form a giant cuddle pile in the middle of the library now?” Theo scoffed loudly and shoved Blaise away, almost tipping the chair over and spilling Blaise onto the floor in a heap.

“Of course she is,” Susan scowled at him and joined in on the hug awkwardly, “hugs aren’t just stupid expressions of Hufflepuff’s, they are exchanges of kindness and understanding. You  _ Slytherins  _ should try it more often.”

“She got you there, Zabini.” Ron laughed, reaching forward to sling an arm around Harry as well.

They stayed there like that for a moment, warmth spreading through Hermione’s whole body at the physical reminder of the friendships she was creating.

“As touching as this all is,” Pansy cleared her throat as everyone parted from each other, “Madam Pince looks like she’s ready to murder us. Let’s get some homework done, shall we? Padma, you brought those books on Transfiguration, right?”

“Of course,” Padma slumped down into a chair and dug through her book bag. “I am a Ravenclaw afterall, I’ve got to be somewhat useful.” she teased.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You’re wanting to go outside in  _ that _ weather?!” Pansy shrieked.

Harry rolled his eyes, glancing at said weather through the hall windows and admiring the falling snow settling on the trees and ground below. It was a beautiful sight, even if the halls were a bit drafty and chilly and requiring the students to wrap and bundle up in their warmest coats and scarves. Besides the point, Harry needed to get outside and breathe some fresh air anyways. It was also an excuse to go and try and meet up with Hagrid anyways, the giant of a man spilled information way too easily and Harry needed answers quickly.

“Fine, you don’t have to come! I’ll ask Draco,” he grinned as the blonde came in view amongst the crowd of students swarming the halls to get to their next class, “Oi! Draco!” He called out.

Draco turned towards him, smiling in greeting and making his way through the wave-like current of students. Ever since Harry had fallen from the quidditch stands, which he liked to remind Blaise with an “I-Told-You-So” jab, Draco had almost seemed to hover around him. Hermione had whispered to him while he’d been in the infirmary that Draco had made a great big deal to Madam Pomfrey and any professor in the nearest vicinity. 

It was nice, Harry mused, that someone had cared so much for his well being. It was also sort of overwhelming to suddenly have Draco acting like a mother hen around him, he never had anyone do so and it overwhelmed and flustered him considerably. 

“Yeah, Harry?” Draco asked as he did a full body scan, obviously looking for any injuries of any kind. 

Pansy snorted at her friend’s ridiculousness. Harry knew she would normally open her mouth and say something harsh and teasing, but the fond crinkle at the corners of her eyes gave away her adoration for the blonde. Harry smiled softly at her when they caught eyes, his heart swelling in adoration for his friend for not picking a fight with an already uptight Draco Malfoy.

“Want to join me to go visit Hagrid's hut today after classes finish?”

“In that weather?” Draco exclaimed, earning a shriek of laughter from Pansy. Harry glared at the dark haired girl, trying to ignore her. “Of course, someone needs to make sure you don’t freeze to an icicle!”

“Alright,” Harry hid his blushing cheeks as they continued to walk down the hall towards their next class, “Want to meet at the base of the stairs?”

“I’ll be there, do you have a warm enough cloak?”

“Yes, mum!” Harry teased.

“Oh quit it,” Draco rolled his eyes as Dean laughed along with Harry and the others, “you’ll be thankful for my advice when you get outside and your bollocks don’t freeze right off!”

They parted ways, heading to their Herbology class with the Ravenclaws. Harry was always excited to get to this class because he had time to work and talk with Ron. The redhead boy was quickly becoming a close friend and he wanted to spend so much more time with him than they were able to. 

Pansy had teased him about their friendship at first, making comments about Ron’s shabby robes and his second hand quills and books. It wasn’t new news to him about Ron’s family not having a lot of money, based on their first conversation on the train to Hogwarts. Ron had revealed that his family was quite large and their bank account was quite small in comparison. He knew deep down in her seemingly cold heart that Pansy didn’t mean any ill will, it was just something she had taken note of in her own weird way. She stated it was a habit that she would try and hold her tongue from now on.

“Hiya Harry!” Ron greeted them as they turned the corner towards the greenhouses. “Are the dungeons always this cold?”

“Oh yes,” Blaise spoke up for Harry, “it’s unbearable.”

“I would have thought you snakes were used to the cold conditions of your common room?” Padma teased, raising her immaculate eyebrow at Blaise.

“We are cold blooded creatures, Pads,” Blaise smirked, “what can I say, we gather together for warmth.”

“Quit calling me that, it’s a god-awful nickname.”

“Alright,” Blaise folded his arms over his chest, the group of Slytherins and Ron all chuckling and watching in amusement, “I’ll call you Paddi.”

“Merlin, that’s worse!” Padma shrieked.

“What are we screeching about out here?!” Professor Sprout exclaimed, opening her greenhouse door.

“Blaise is trying to give me a nickname and they are all awful!” Padma shoved his shoulder as Blaise started laughing.

“Oh kids,” Professor Sprout rolled her eyes, opening the door wider for the students to enter, “nicknames are sometimes not supposed to be that nice sounding, it’s more for convenience I’ve found!”

“See!” Blaise exclaimed as Padma smacked her school books down on the desk they shared. “Now let me call you Pads!”

“Never!”

“It’s a good thing no one calls me Ronald all that seriously,” Ron chuckled as he and Harry settled into their desk, “or I would throw a fit like Addie does.”

“You call her Addie?” Harry whispered, trying not to get Blaise’s attention to throw more fuel to the fire.

“It’s the only name that makes sense!” The two laughed.

“Do you want to join me to go say hi to Hagrid? He was the one who showed me around Diagon Alley and bought me my owl. I haven’t been able to say hi to him all that often and wanted to introduce him to some of my friends!” Harry explained as Professor Sprout started to go into the lesson of the day.

“You really consider me a friend?!” Ron’s blue eyes were wide in amazement.

“Of course!” Harry scrunched his brows, “How could I not, you were one of the first kindest people to me in this world.”

Ron looked like he might start crying, which made Harry slightly uncomfortable, but he schooled his face together and grabbed Harry’s hand to squeeze.

“Of course I’ll come, I’d love to meet him!”

Harry’s face hurt from the size of the grin that overtook his features. He squeezed Ron’s hand back and picked up his quill with the other.

“Alright! Meet me at the base of the main stairs after classes!”

The two finally settled down and listened to the rest of the lesson, making notes and comparing their equally bad chicken scratch handwriting. Harry didn’t mind taking most of the notes while Ron took his time and focused on getting everything written out as clearly as he could manage. He took time out of the lessons they shared together to notice Ron’s mannerisms, how he always appeared to be ready to bolt out of his seat at any given lesson, or how he was always shifting and needing to move one limb or another (either it be his leg bouncing up and down, or his fingers twitching and playing with the loose strands of fabric on his haggard looking book bag). The boy was fidgety and his attention always seemed to stray whenever he was confused on something.

It was a subtle thing, or so Harry liked to imagine, his attempts at helping Ron focus. Whenever Ron’s blue eyes would glaze over, Harry would start tapping the desk to get his attention or hum a song under his breath until Ron got back on track. He paid extra attention in the classes they shared, wanting to get all the information needed for Ron to succeed. Dudley had always been that student, who couldn’t pay attention and resorted to beating up kids and bullying relentlessly. Harry didn’t want to see Ron become one of those kids, so he would help in any way he could to prevent another Dudley from emerging.

“Thanks,” Ron mumbled as the lesson came to an end, hiding the embarrassed flush on his already pink face as he stood up and gathered his things, “I have a hard time focusing. I’m trying to work on it though…”

“No thanks necessary,” he smiled kindly at Ron, “that’s what friends do!”

The two grinned as they followed the stream of students out into the hall and towards the main staircase to meet up with Draco. 

“Where are you heading, Ron?” Padma called, parting from her argument with Blaise.

“I’m hanging with Harry! We’ll meet up with you guys in the library shortly!” Ron yelled as they parted ways.

Weaving through the crowd of students heading to their common rooms or study locations, Harry grabbed Ron’s hand and pushed through so they could get to Hagrid sooner. Draco was propped up on the banister of the stairs chatting with Hermione, the two of them standing out from the crowd around them in many different ways. Draco always got a lot of attention based on his family, but he also was pale with equally white blonde hair that contrasted against the red of his house scarf and the tie strewn around his neck. Hermione was a muggleborn conversing and laughing with the son of a pureblood blood purist, but her short stature and wildly natural, dark curls was a hairstyle that not a lot of other girls were sporting. The two of them were a perfect pair, Harry thought with a crooked grin as he met their eyes.

“Harry!” Hermione greeted him with her customary hug, even going so far as including Ron into the tradition. Ron looked decidedly uncomfortable, but awkwardly patted the girl’s back. “Draco won’t tell me what you all are up to!” She pouted.

“Well did he invite you?” Ron questioned, his tone dangerously teetering on the line of being rude.

“I did now,” Harry nudged his friend, smiling at the shorter girl to appease her. “Would you like to join us to say hello to Hagrid, the groundskeeper?”

“The groundskeeper you say?” Hermione’s eyes brightened, “he could answer some questions for me on how he maintains the plants and grounds here! I am very fascinated since there’s so much land and I read somewhere that magical residue affects the nature surrounding and can encourage their growth more rapidly--”

“I’m sure he can answer that.” Draco cut her off, rolling his eyes at her good-naturedly.

“So why are you wanting to go speak to Hagrid?” Ron asked, bundling his coat tighter to his body as they headed towards the main doors.

“He was the one who came and brought me to Diagon Alley,” Harry explained, smirking at the memory of the Dursley’s shocked and fearful faces at the sight of the giant, kind-hearted man. “He was also one of the first people to give me a birthday cake and bought me my owl.”

“You’ve  _ never  _ had a birthday cake before?!” Hermione thundered, her face darkening in an expression that Harry couldn’t decipher but knew he should be afraid of.

Stomach dropping at the realization of saying too much, Harry paled and tripped over a step. Draco grasped his upper arm protectively, scowling at him with more feror than usual. Comments like those always got Harry in trouble. He would lose meals and get a smacking for whenever teachers asked the Dursley’s questions about Harry’s homelife. He always lost friends because Dudley picked up even more on beating up people who even looked at Harry. 

“Er n-no,” Harry stuttered, feeling his insides shrivelling up at the sudden attention from his friends. “My cousin Dudley ate his share and mine combined, he was a fat and selfish oaf.” He explained vaguely.

“That’s messed up,” Ron muttered, “Fred and George always constantly stole bits of my cake from me growing up… it didn’t help that we never had much to begin with anyways.”

Staring at his friend in awe, Harry couldn’t understand why Ron would share that with Draco and Hermione present. His face was red with embarrassment, but his fists were clenched and he gave Harry a determined smile. He realized with a start that Ron was trying to help him by adding in his own deep secret.

“My parents are dentists,” Hermione whispered, her voice barely audible from where she was hanging her head away from them, “so they would make healthy treats and cakes for me to bring and share with the class. But everyone else got nice looking cakes, filled with sugar and sweets and creamy icing on top. My cakes were always joked about and thrown away when the teacher wasn’t looking. One time this kid threw his slice in my face…”

As they exited the castle, the silence of the outdoors surrounded them in a blanket of comfort. The cold nipped at their noses, snowflakes danced and landed in their hair and eyelashes, and their warm breath created puffs of air visible in front of their faces. There was nobody else out there but them, so they all linked arms and trudged through the snow, giving Draco enough space to share if he wanted to.

“My birthdays were always political events,” Draco finally spoke up, his voice sharp and guarded, “my father would order the best decorations and have the house elves whip up the nicest cakes and treats for my friends and political allies. It was all such a show, nothing was really real or sincere. Except for how Blaise and Pansy would trick the house elves to make us gingerbread, my favorite treat, and we would hide in one of the many rooms at home and create stories of how we wanted our lives to be.”

Draco was silent for a moment as they continued to pull their way through the waist deep snow drifts, towards the welcoming sight of Hagrid’s homey looking hut. The lights were on in the kitchen and smoke drifted up from the chimney, contrasting against the bright white sky with it’s dark grey fumes.

“I hope this year my birthday will be much better.” Draco whispered at last.

“When are your birthdays?” Hermione spoke up, her voice raw with the obvious urge to hold back tears.

“March 1st,” Ron groaned, “it’s when everything is all muddy and wet and miserable!”

“June 5th,” Draco curtly responded, “right as school gets out.”

“Mine is July 31st,” Harry relayed, “and what's yours, ‘Mione?”

The bushy haired girl smiled gratefully up at him, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“September 19th.”

“So you are saying we  _ missed  _ your birthday and you didn’t say anything?!” Draco exclaimed, his voice slicing through the calm viscade of the snowy landscape surrounding them.

Blushing madly, Hermione tried to hide her face as Harry began to tickle up her sides and tease her.

“Hermione I can’t believe you!” Harry shrieked, his face hurting from how hard he was grinning at the sound of her shrieking laughter.

After their impromptu tackle/tickle session, where Ron had even tossed in a snowball or two at Draco’s already white head, Harry twined his fingers with Hermione’s left hand as Draco got her right side. Ron had awkwardly stepped next to Harry, only for Harry to grin over at him and twine their fingers together as well; Ron’s pale, freckle covered hand, warm against Harry’s dark and smaller sized one. Warmth flooded Harry’s veins, pulsating like the magic he felt whenever he used his wand to perform a spell. He never would have thought he would be here, holding hands with three kids his age and actually considering them to be friends.

“We have to make up for it,” Harry announced as they descended the large hill and onto the pathway shovelled for them towards Hagrid’s front door. “We are going to throw you a birthday party.”

“You don’t have to do that!” Hermione exclaimed.

“Of course we do,” Ron muttered, smiling softly at Harry as he spoke, “that’s what friends do for each other.”

Harry hadn’t been happier.

  
  
  


Christmas decorations were  _ everywhere _ . It was insane, Ron thought in awe and horror as he made note of how many bells and baubles, tinsel and lights, and red trimming and mistletoe covered every corner. The ginormous tree was even stranger, with how it was decorated in all sorts of candles, fairies and pixies, ornaments, and gold and red ribbon. 

“Why would anyone bring a tree  _ indoors _ ?” Ron mused, exasperated at the display around them.

Padma paused from the bite of porridge she was about to swallow, her brows scrunching in confusion.

“What do you mean?” She asked slowly.

“I heard stories from Fred and George about the holidays here at Hogwarts, but I never really believed them! I can’t believe it’s all  _ real _ !”

Realization seemed to dawn on his friend’s face, smoothing her features out as she continued eating.

“What do you celebrate in the winter, Ron?” 

The stories that Fred and George came home and spun for him always sounded kind of awful. Disregarding the pranks and mischief they got up to, the Christmas season was basically a forced upon holiday. Nobody else lit the eight candles or shared family stories passed down from generation to generation of survivors, they all looked at you weird if you didn’t get any presents or know how to celebrate Christmas. 

“Hanukkah,” Ron lowered his voice, not wanting Anthony or Terry to overhear and have something to make fun of him for, “my mum’s family were polish jews, my dad was raised celebrating Yule like other purebloods and wizarding families, but we honor mum’s family since they went through a lot in history.”

“I’m sorry for your mum’s family.” Padma whispered, awkwardly reaching forward and patting Ron’s hand as a show of support.

Ron smiled at the gesture, knowing that Padma wasn’t very physically affectionate. She was much better at words and actions, showing her love and appreciation in ways that weren't so “Hufflepuffy”. 

“It’s all good,” Ron’s mood darkened as he remembered his last letter from home, “I’m just upset because mum and dad are going to visit Charlie in Romania and I’m left here to celebrate Hanukkah in the midst of everyone else obnoxiously celebrating christmas.”

“That doesn’t seem fair,” Padma scowled, “not everyone celebrates christmas, you’d think that Hogwarts would be a bit more diverse!”

“I guess not…” Ron muttered bitterly, taking a bite of his breakfast sandwich.

“I’ll celebrate with you,” Padma straightened her spine, her eyes focused on Ron in a very serious expression. “What do I need to do?”

Ron’s eyes widened at the implication. The friends that he had made in his first couple of months at Hogwarts had made him a little overwhelmed at first, he hadn’t expected so many people to be so kind and welcoming. But out of their large group of amassed misfits, Ron felt immensely close to Padma and Harry, while Draco and Hermione were steadily making their way up on his friendship chart. 

“You don’t have to do that!” Ron exclaimed, trying to blink away the scratchy sensation of tears prickling at his eyes.

“Of course I do!” Padma’s brows were scrunched tightly, her face screwed into an incredible look of determination. “I had wanted to experience a Christmas here at Hogwarts anyways.”

Mandy and Isobel, two girls who dormed with Padma and actually talked with Ron on occasion, shrieked as Ron lunged across the table and squeezed Padma in a hug. 

“Ronald! What did we talk about physical touch this early in the morning?!” Padma screeched, trying to hide the laughter in her voice. 

Ron was too happy to be properly chastised. He sat back, allowing his friend the space she so desired, and watched as the older prefects walked down their table with sign up sheets for staying at Hogwarts over the break. As the sheet came their way, Ron was grinning as he scribbled his name underneath Padma’s.

“You’re such a bloody sentimentalist.” Padma rolled her eyes into her teacup.

He ignored her in favor of seeing which of his other friends were signing the sheet. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table to see Dean and Draco whispering together with wide grins on their faces. He had overheard Dean discussing the plan of inviting Draco to his home for Christmas, since Lucius had blackmailed all of his Slytherin friends’ parents to not take him in. Ron was glad to see that Draco didn’t have something to stress over anymore, that he could enjoy the holidays with someone who enjoyed his company.

Over at the Hufflepuff table, Ron watched Hermione grab the sign up sheet, stare at it for a moment before glancing over at the Slytherin table, and sign her name. Ron rolled her eyes at the Hufflepuff’s protectiveness of Harry. It seemed that Hermione and him were the only ones who had a clear idea or notion that Harry’s home life wasn’t that great, so Ron wasn’t too upset over Hermione’s annoying clinginess of their friend.

“Come on Ron,” Padma spoke through a mouthful of toast as she rose to her feet and grabbed her bags, “finish up that last bit of egg, we have ten minutes to get to class. We need all the food and energy in us today, it’s Transfiguration day!”

Scooping up the gloopy lumps of egg into his mouth, Ron grabbed his bag from under the table and hurried to get up, Professor McGonagall had promised them a long lesson of notes and theory discussion in today's lesson-- notes were the bane of Ron’s existence!

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“I didn’t realize you were Jewish!” Hermione exclaimed, bouncing on the edge of her seat and jolting Draco so hard that he knocked his knee against the table.

“I didn’t realize the full extent of it until coming here and getting bloody comments like that in return!” Ron shouted defensively.

Hissing at the pain of the jolt, Draco playfully shoved the girl’s shoulder, trying to focus on his last essay he had to write before the term ended and finals began. Even though he wasn’t facing his father’s wrath just yet, Draco needed to get good grades or else there would be more punishment than there already was going to be once he came home. He shivered to himself at the reminder, the now daily nightmare that kept him up at night and stressing for hours on end. 

Mother had been able to get a letter into him last week, she had sent it through his Aunt Andromeda. A wave of relief had rushed through Draco’s body at finally receiving correspondence from her, he had almost had the notion that she was of the same mindframe as his father and didn’t want to speak to him again. But it was nice to know that she still cared and his courage wasn’t for nothing.

_ Draco dearest, _

_ I apologize most sincerely for not writing to you until now, your father made sure I felt his opinion very clearly on your sorting. Do not worry about me, I have been in correspondence with people who may be able to change things, but it’s too early to give you false hope. If all else fails, Severus is your godfather and will do me the honor of raising you right.  _

_ Draco, I want you to know that you mean everything to me. I will do everything in my power to ensure your safety and happiness. Do not ever think less of me and what I would go through for you. I hope to live in a world where you and I can have a real family together, but I want you to be prepared if all else fails. _

_ I hope you enjoy your Christmas, some of my correspondence has let me know that you are spending it with a muggleborn friend. I am proud of you my son, enjoy yourself. _

_ Your loving mother, _

_ Narcissa _

“Are you alright?” Dean, the said muggleborn friend, whispered in Draco’s ear.

The conversation of their friends continued on, Hermione and Ron were still arguing and discussing cultural history while Pansy was trying to convince Harry to change his glasses style. There were moments where Draco felt completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of people surrounding him, the sudden attention and need to prove himself was crippling. But moments like these, where Dean discreetly whispered and stared at him in concern, like he knew exactly what Draco was thinking, were enough to calm the constant anxiety that stirred in his chest.

Without responding, Draco mutely nodded his head and got back to his essay. He could still feel Dean’s eyes on him, but they weren’t as probing and sharp as Pansy’s across the room from where she kept glancing up at him out of the corner of her eye. She was one of his oldest friends, and even though he loved her to death she had a way of being too overprotective and smothering at times. It was exhausting.

The days after that seemed to bleed together, full of the Gryffindor common room being chorused in Christmas carols and stressful study sessions where no one spoke through the veiled fog of fear of failing final exams. But the pleased smile Draco earned from Professor McGonagall at his ability to turn his matchstick into a finely pointed needle had his spirits soaring. Even the pleased expression on Snape’s mask of indifference at Draco being able to brew his final potion perfectly had the tension bleeding out of his body.

It was finally Christmas break and he had a place to go to that wasn’t cold and domineering.

“Hurry up Draco!” Dean shouted on the morning that the train would be leaving for London.

“I am hurrying!” Draco shouted back, taking his sweet time packing up his toiletry bag in the communal bathroom. 

“Well you aren’t hurting fast enough!” Dean retorted, causing the blonde to snort indecently. “My mum makes the best roast pork, she cooks it all day in a batch of herbs and seasonings, and my mouth is drooling just thinking of it! So we better hurry up so my siblings don’t eat it all up before us!”

Finally grabbing the last of his soaps and combs, Draco paused and stared at his reflection. He had changed quite a bit from when he first was sorted into the house of the brave. He had grown an inch, gained a healthy amount of weight, and his hair had grown out and gotten a little wilder. There were also dark circles underneath his eyes from the nightmares that kept him up and his shoulders unconsciously slumped from the grief he was now consciously carrying. But despite that, he was happy--truly in all ways, his eyes looked bluer and clear and it looked like he was forming laugh lines from how often Harry made him laugh and Dean’s constant kindness and friendship made him smile. 

Draco was happy, even though he had a lot more room to grow and become content, he was far off from the state he had been in before.

“Are you trying to join your reflection in there?” Dean hollered again, “Or are you just admiring your pompous self?!”

“I’m going to kill you for that one!” Draco shouted, grinning madly as he turned and dashed out of the bathroom to go pounce on his best friend’s back.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Harry couldn’t believe that it was Christmas Day and he was getting actual  _ real _ gifts from friends who liked him. Blaise had looked confused at first when Harry had mentioned the fact offhandedly, but he hid his expressions behind a mask of indifference and continued tearing open his gifts. Harry didn’t know how anyone could look bored while opening such brightly wrapped gifts, items that had been hand picked out especially for you. 

With shaking fingers, Harry unwrapped each of his gifts and wiped tears from his eyes with each one. He got a photobook full of pictures of his mum and dad from Hagrid, a book that his mum had published on her research into potions from Hermione, a set of quills with instant drying ink from Padma, a bundle of sweets from Ron, a book of famous Muggle celebrities that were witches and wizards from Theo, a Rubix cube from Dean, some cassette tapes on different muggle bands from Tracey (who he had gotten to know much more and shared stories of the muggle world together), some patent hair gel that his grandfather had invented and a package of wizarding facial creams and potions from Pansy, and a book on historic moments in Quidditch history from Draco. 

“Is this really the first time you’ve received gifts from people?” Blaise spoke up after Harry couldn’t contain the overjoyed sob from escaping his lips.

“Y-Yeah,” Harry muttered self-consciously, “my aunt and uncle don’t like me very much.”

Blaise was silent for a long moment before he got up from his bed and began digging through his trunk.

“I figured as much,” Blaise calmly stated, getting up with a small package in his hands, “Pansy and I did some research. Happy Christmas, Potter.”

Silently and in awe, Harry slowly unwrapped the packaging. Inside was two leaflets, one was obviously muggle and the other wizarding due to the moving pictures on the cover. 

“How did you--” Harry shouted before Blaise interrupted him.

“I noticed how much you talked to Draco and cared about his situation. Call it an intuition thing.” Blaise explained mysteriously before exiting the first year bedroom for the common room.

_ How to Report Physical and Sexual Abuse in Your Home: A Guide for Minors and Adolecents in Seeking Help From Abuse  _ and  _ The Ministry of Magic Guidebook: The Care of Orphans and Abuse Victims _ were a stark look from the joyous presents Harry had received from his other friends, but holding both of the guide books in his hands, Harry felt an overwhelming surge of fear and relief at having tools for trying to get out of the Dursley’s care.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Having had no friends beforehand, Hermione was overwhelmed by the amount of presents that had amassed at her bedside overnight. Megan, who had stayed over the break, was also surprised at Hermione’s stack of presents.

“I know you have a study group,” Megan said as she continued to stare in awe as Hermione grabbed the first gift off the pile, “but I didn’t realize there were so many of you!”

“Me neither,” Hermione whispered, her voice rough with emotion, “I sometimes forget myself.”

From Harry, Hermione received a book on famous Muggleborn witches and wizards that had been banned from several ministry funded libraries. It was a very rare book, especially since almost all of the copies had been burned in protest during the war with Grindelwald. Hermione felt proud and fortunate enough to now be owning it and holding the slightly torn and aged book in her trembling hands.

Blaise gifted her a stationary set, packed with elegantly printed parchment pads, stencils, quills, ink pods, and spell check quills. His mother had helped him order it and pick it out, she had insisted that Hermione needed the white and peach pink set, since it wasn’t dedicated to a specific house. It was symbolic, he explained in the letter, because she approached people without blinking twice at their colored ties or political affiliations.

Theo had picked out the most vibrant green hair ribbon, decked out with sparkles and charms that casted small snake shadows on the walls and floor. He had also sent a disgustingly yellow one as well that sang popular cheery anthems whenever sunlight hit the ribbons material. 

Ron had sent her a package full of her favorite lemon pasties that she had gushed about liking on the train ride to Hogwarts. The fact that he had remembered such a detail warmed Hermione’s heart and made her want to cry. He had even expressed in his letter about how much he wanted to gift people with actual presents and not just cheap candies. But Hermione was touched by the thought he had put into the gift and the effort it took to do so. She made a mental note to be much kinder to him from now on.

Padma was kind enough to pick out a collection of leather bookmarks with Hufflepuff yellow trimming and coloring on them. They even had a charm that would create a timer for when you needed to stop reading and go to bed. 

Pansy had sent her a book cover that had a beautiful illustration of the Great Lake on the front, with golden swirls and foiling surrounding it. It was absolutely gorgeous and Hermione was even more shocked to realize that Pansy had painted it herself! She didn’t realize that the girl could paint so beautifully and elegantly, and that she would paint Hermione, of all people, a gorgeous piece like this!

Dean had sent her a package of hair clips that his sister had picked out specifically for her, they were a beautiful range of colors with different decals and symbols on them (butterflies, peace signs, different arrays of flowers, and hearts). He explained that his little sister had hair that resembled hers and that she loved these clips, that it helped keep her bangs and stray hairs out of her face. 

Susan had left her a package with a handknit blanket that her mother had helped her knit all through owl letters. It was a beautifully woven piece of material with gold, pale yellows, whites, creamy pinks, and vibrant greens weaved together. In the letter Susan also explained that there was a permanent heating charm that would be activated with a spell for the cold, winter months.

Hannah had sent her a package full of homemade ginger cookies with calming potions and cheering potions baked inside of them. She had explained in her letter that her mum had created a recipe that coexisted with the potions, making them taste good and not over-doing the effects of the spells. Hermione bit into one, her teeth gliding through the soft, crumbling cookie, and the ginger and brown sugar melting instantly on her tongue. It was  _ so  _ delicious!

And finally Draco had sent her a pin that originated from the Malfoy family vaults. It was a golden circle with a snake on the front weaving around an apple tree. Draco explained in his letter that if she were to say the correct spell and press on the middle of the pin, she would indicate to his matching pin that she was in danger. He even explained that it would do the same thing for him if he needed her help, they could communicate to each other through them if they wore them at all times. Hermione wanted to cry as she pinned it to the front of her robes, proud that she could call him a dear friend.

Full to the brim with happiness and gratitude, Hermione bounded up the stairs and flung her arms around Harry, Blaise, Ron, and Padma-- the only ones who had stayed over the break at Hogwarts. 

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” She gushed, jumping excitedly as she continued to squeeze them in a presing group hug.

“‘Mione geroff me!” Ron shouted, she could now hear the playful brotherly teasing in his voice and not the brittle rudeness her defenses made her hear.

As she released her group of friends, Blaise playfully mused her hair, Harry smiled warmly in thanks to her, and Padma thanked her kindly for the book on Muggle politics. She had a group of friends who finally understood and wouldn’t underestimate her, this was the best Christmas gift she could ever receive.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Despite the bitterness at not being able to gift his friends with much more than bags of sweets, Ron was shocked to realize that no one was mad or upset at him. For his first year participating in Christmas, Ron was pleasantly surprised at how kind his friends all were. Padma had smirked at him knowingly, she had told him so that he wouldn’t get teased by anyone in their friend group.

Harry had sent him a set of wizarding vinyls for him to listen to at home (that weren’t his mum’s annoying music). He had even sent him a letter saying that he had been told he owned a vintage turntable in his Gringotts vault and that they could listen to music together over the summer if he liked. The idea of inviting Harry to the Burrow excited Ron, he would finally have someone who paid attention to him for once! He could finally have someone to fairly play quidditch with and go on adventures through the woods behind the Burrow with him. For the first time all semester, Ron was excited for summer to come.

Draco had sent him a letter apologizing for the antagonism his father aimed at Ron’s dad in the Ministry. With the letter, he sent a pin that was used in times of peace offerings. Ron could remember reading in a book once that the old families would wear pins that held curses that would strike them dead if they broke the peace treaty they agreed on. Draco explained that this wasn’t such a violent one, but one that didn’t have the curses applied so that it was a gift of symbolism--Draco wanted peace with Ron on account for his own father’s actions. It was one of the most incredible gifts that Ron had received, and it came from a Malfoy! 

Hermione got him a set of books on inspiring accounts of Jewish survivors of the holocaust, both wizarding and muggle. It was a thick book and Hermione confessed to getting some of her stray tears on the pages from when she had been reading through before wrapping. It was a beautiful gift that Ron would most definitely share with his mum.

Blaise, Theo, and Pansy had gotten together and bought a handmade, woven Ravenclaw banner. Ron was shocked that the three pureblooded Slytherins had gone to such an effort and gotten him something that didn’t scream Slytherin. They didn’t leave a note, possibly from embarrassment at showing kindness to a Weasley, but Ron appreciated it immensely.

Dean Thomas had sent him a package of muggle candies. The packaging was much blander than wizarding, with the bright colors and animated text. But Ron quickly became obsessed with the tastes of Snickers bars, Hershey’s chocolates, Mars bars, and Twizzler’s vines. They didn’t explode in his mouth or move on command, but they tasted bloody good!

Finally, Padma gifted him a case of glasses. At first, Ron had yelled at Padma over the expensive gift, saying that she didn’t need to pour hundreds of galleons to him, but she quickly explained that her father was friends with many spectacle and eye specialized medi wizards. They had been doing research into concepts learned from the muggle world, learning disabilities such as Dyslexia, Dysgraphia, and Dyscalculia. Padma’s father was doing research into disorders like ADHD and ADD, trying to find magical ways to help his daughter and other young witches and wizards out with learning and attention disorders. 

All of his gifts meant to much to him, Ron didn’t know how to express it. In a way to make her children feel accepted, Molly Weasley had tried to gift her children with hand-knit sweaters since she and Arthur could never afford anything more than that. But to have actual presents from others who celebrated Christmas was exciting in the least. 

“Thank you for lighting candles with me earlier in the month,” Ron thanked his group of friends, who were all gathered around him in an empty corridor where they were all sharing candies and foods that Hermione had brought up from her common room. “It really means a lot to have people understand my family history.”

“You’re welcome, Ronald!” Hermione chippered, her face glowing with pride.

“‘Mione,” Ron groaned good-naturely, “you don’t need to call me  _ Ronald _ , my mum does that plenty enough!”

Hermione blushed and shrunk in on herself as everyone laughed, Harry shoving her shoulder teasingly.

“But my mum knits us sweaters, it’s a tradition she took from her mum who passed the time worrying in hiding by making gifts and warm clothing for all the children. She knitted all of you one, even the others who went home for the holidays.” Ron explained, pulling the box full of handmade sweaters from behind his back.

Padma’s eyes were wide as Ron handed her a dark navy blue sweater, a silver “P” stitched onto the front. Her dark fingers clenched the warm fabric as she held it up to her face and nestled her nose into the warmth.

“Ron,” she whispered hoarsley, looking up with tear filled eyes, “this is  _ amazing _ , thank your mother for me please.”

Hermione was openly crying as she stared at the mustard yellow sweater that was obviously too big for her small frame, a forest green “H” stitched onto it’s front with little hand stitched flowers blooming alongside it. 

Harry was grinning as he pulled his Maroon sweater over his mess of curls, admiring the emerald green “H” stitched onto the front. His eyes were full of tears as well, but he looked overjoyed (possibly from the shock and surprise at receiving so many wonderful presents, Ron thought to himself sadly as he remembered Harry’s awful upbringing).

“Thank you, Ron.” He thanked, jumping forth and crushing Ron in a tight hug.

Ron had never laughed so much before in his life before that Christmas Day.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Draco had grown up in riches and privilege. His father had openly mocked families, like the Weasley’s, who lived in shambles and poor upkeep. He was always thrusting his riches and pleasantries on his wife and son and for all of the wizarding community to see, it was a neccesity of the House of Malfoy. All Most Noble Houses had to have an image to uphold, and since Draco had always proven to be a difficult child, Lucius took that image pretty seriously. 

This was the first time that Draco had actually seen the life of someone below his class.

Dean Thomas’ family home was a shabby two bedroom apartment in downtown London, full of poor lighting from flickering lamps and headlights, cracks in the walls where Draco swore he could feel the cool winter chill creeping in, and bugs that scurried to and fro in the shadows. Despite the poor living conditions, it was probably the most lived in and happiest living arrangements he had ever seen. Dean had two younger sisters and a mother, all of them full of bright smiles and inviting eyes. Daria and Deidre were two years apart from each other, five years younger than Dean. They had a different father than Dean, but they treated each other even closer than Draco would have suspected of step siblings. 

Draco found that he felt at home in the small quarters, especially when Dean’s mum, Julia, let him help cook over her muggle oven. It was a shabby, old thing, the burners on top were shaky and rusted, and the oven needed twice as long to heat up than a regular oven. Draco wouldn’t have known this if Julia hadn’t explained it to him, that people with low income, like the Thomas family, didn’t have the nice neccesities that the rich had. 

“It’s better than nothin’.” Julia explained, rolling her shoulders back and adjusting the knob on the oven once more. “Wanna tell me about how your mother cooks?”

“She doesn’t cook all that often,” Draco muttered nervously, feeling ashamed that he had a life of privildge yet hated his home, “we have house elves that do the chores and cooking for us.”

“Like slaves?!” Dean exclaimed from the living room, his dark eyes wide in shock and fury. “Does Hogwarts have them?!”

Swallowing over the lump in his throat, Draco tried to give an explanation of the history of house elves, that it was ingrained in their biology to live under the servitude of a witch or wizard. 

“It’s common practice in families like mine.” Draco explained, trying to hide his ashamed expression into the work Julia had assigned him to do. She had shown him how to knead bread and beat it into a loaf, smiling encouragingly as Draco got the rhythm down. 

Julia’s eyes were piercing, Draco could feel them on the side of his face. He was scared to look up and see dissappointment there. He liked her, with her sharp tongue and kind smiles. It reminded him of his own mother, just a more open and less fearful version. A pang in his chest reminded him of the deep longing he had felt for months in regards to his mother. All he wanted was for her to be safe and listen to her share stories of her adolescence, all while running her gentle fingers through his wavy hair.

“So why does Hogwarts have house elves?” Dean asked, his attention long gone from the game that Deidre was trying to pull him in on.

“I don’t know why Dumbledore would have house elves working under him,” Draco shrugged in confusion, his brow scrunching in thought as he tried to find some reason that the Headmaster would do such a thing as a Light wizard. “Maybe there’s some way we can figure out for ourselves.”

“I would love that!” Dean nodded his head, his face scrunched in a determined scowl.

Julia was busy all day on Christmas, trying to make a full course meal out of scraps and items that she had obviously gotten from a cheap establishment. Draco enjoyed the time to relax and let his mind wander as he cooked mashed potatoes, stirred carrots in the pot, and helped create a dressing for the salad. It was kind of like working with potions, he found out quickly, and hearing Julia spin stories (mostly embarrassing ones of Dean) was soothing.

But even though the Thomas family made their space lively and hopeful, Draco was immensely saddened by the situations that they lived in. Such a kind and inviting family didn’t deserve to live in such circumstances. Especially so when Draco heard Julia share the story of how she lost hope in hearing word from Dean’s father.

“He was the love of my life,” Julia murmured into her spiked hot cocoa mug, hours after the younger girls had been sent to bed and Draco and Dean could stay up for a while, “I just couldn’t believe he would leave us. He would wake up every morning and kiss Dean’s forehead, promising him a life of wonder.”

Draco wanted to cry, Lucius had only ever smacked him on the side of the head as a form of a loving gesture. Dean seemed to understand what was making Draco upset, he reached over the table and grasped Draco’s hand. Julia’s sharp eyes followed the movement, her eyes softening kindly as she took another sip of her warm beverage.

“I’m glad that you have been kind to my son, Draco,” Julia confessed, making Dean blush embarrassingly, “I was so concerned for him venturing into a world without me. I don’t understand how your world works or how Dean fits into it, but all I know is that he is a wonderfully magical boy and deserves the best. Thank you for being there for him and teaching him so much that he needs to know about his new world.”

“Thank  _ you _ for inviting me here,” Draco tried to use the Malfoy customs and curtesies for once in his life, “it is an honor to spend the holidays with you all.”

Julia gave him another long, searching look. This time, Draco allowed her to look, he was in the house of the brave after all, he should actually be trying to embrace that! Whatever she was searching for, Julia must have found. She sat back with a sad look in her eye, her lips curled into a soft smile.

“You two get to bed,” she told them, motioning her head towards the bedroom on the left, “it’s getting late and I don’t want to see you yawning on Christmas!”

As Draco followed Dean into his bedroom, the one reserved for only him while his sisters and mum slept in the other bedroom to give him space as the only boy in the house, he felt ten pounds lighter. The guilt was still there, clinging to his ravaging soul at knowing he lived a lfe of luxury compared to Dean’s life, but Draco felt happy to have a friend there at his side. 

The shared bathroom was small and cramped as Draco brushed his teeth, alongside Dean who made funny faces at him with toothpaste foaming at his lips. The sound of their laughter filled the bathroom as Draco snorted and accidentally inhaled the minty aroma of the toothpaste. It burned his nostrils and brought tears to his eyes, but Draco couldn’t stop laughing.

Finally, after being told to quiet down by Julia and wiping their faces clean, Dean led Draco down the hall into the bedroom where they could climb in bed and get comfortable. Draco had never shared a bed with someone before, but he found that he enjoyed the warmth and comfort of having Dean close by. 

“I’m glad you came here with me, Draco.” Dean whispered in the darkness of the night.

With heavy eyelids and a soft smile warming his face, Draco hummed in reply and snuggled closer to his friend’s side.

“Me too,” he whispered back, “thank you for having me.”

“I will always invite you here so you don’t have to spend a single second with your arsehole of a father, I mean it.” 

Tear threatened to spill down Draco’s cheeks for the millionth time that day. He scrubbed furiously at his eyes and whispered a soft ‘thank you’ back to his dearest friend.


	7. Snape Isn't That Evil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Padma and Ron start looking into the third floor corridor, Draco and Harry overhear an interesting conversation, Hermione tightens bonds with Pansy and Susan, and a new pov is introduced.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for your patience y'all! if you guys wanna encourage me to update more, message me on tumblr! i'm i-like-to-think-im-cool and obviously im super cool. haha not really.  
> this chapter is dedicated to @ima_reader_not_a_writer and @iam4spam9 for the comments that made me cry and write out this chapter. I'm back y'all!!!
> 
> here's the chapter, it's smaller, but it's a nice little filler until shit goes down !

Chapter 6: Snape Isn’t  _ That _ Evil

“I thought I told you that I wanted to actually see the next quidditch match! Not be stuck in the castle, hunting through a clearly out of bounds corridor!” 

Ron was in good authority to be upset, he hadn’t seen one single quidditch match this year! Even though he had given Padma the information on Hagrid slipping up and sharing with Harry about the Philosopher’s Stone, Ron just wanted some downtime from classes and enjoy a good quidditch match. He could hardly stand having to hear the recounts from Anthony Goldstein and Terry Boot, it made his blood boil and his face to go purple with jealousy.

“Oh shut up,” Padma hissed, smacking his arm, “we have six more years of matches to attend!”

Mumbling curses under his breath, he followed in Padma’s footsteps as they scurried around corners in order to stay hidden from Filch. 

“Why do  _ I _ have to be the one to hold onto the record player?! It’s  _ your _ mum’s anyways!” Ron groaned, hoisting the rather heavy instrument in hand to his other hip.

“Because I don’t want to, and you’re being a git.”

Before he could loudly complain, Padma smacked a hand over his mouth and shushed him. They flattened to the wall, as much as they could handle, and watched with wide eyes as Filch and Mrs. Norris walked down the hall past them. After a beat of silence, to ensure their safety, Padma grasped Ron’s hand and led him down the hall towards the third floor corridor.

“Get ready, okay? Do you remember the spell I told you to play the record?” Padma flourished her wand, steadying it in front of the locked door.

“Of course I do.” Ron defensively snapped, steadying the record and his wand in hand.

With a silent nod, Padma nodded at him to play the record, as she turned and whispered the incantation to unlock the door. A soothing tune filtered out of the horn of the record, a warbly jazz number with a french horn harmonizing with the tinkling keys of a piano. The door slowly swung open, revealing Hagrid’s pet beast, Fluffy. 

Ron was surprised to see how quickly the music affected Fluffy, the three headed dog’s six eyes blinking slowly, and his feet staggering in a sleepy fashion. Padma tiptoed into the room, pulling Ron with her, in order to get a good vantage point at the trapdoor. He set the record down on the ground and scrambled up behind Padma, watching the dog droop sleepily to the floor. After a beat, the cerberus closed his six eyes and began to snore loudly. 

“It worked!” Padma whispered, a relieved smile lighting up her face.

Ron took a deep breath and released it, the worst part was over and they could finally find out what was below the trapdoor! They both lifted the door open, since it was a bit heavy, and looked down into the darkness where the Devil’s Snare writhed beneath.

“Incendio!” Padma whispered, waving a jet of flame down into the pit.

At the sudden burst of flame and light, the Devil’s Snare squirmed out of the way of Padma’s spell, allowing a space for the two of them to jump down into and not get tangled up in the deadly plant.

“You have that rope?” Padma asked, sliding her wand back into her pocket.

Ron nodded as he began tying the length of rope he had found in Professor Sprout’s greenhouse to the door handle of the corridor. He threw the rest of the rope down into the pit and handed the length to Padma to scale down first. Nervously, the two of them scrambled down into the pit, keeping their distance from the smoking flame Padma had spelled, and the leaves of the Devil’s Snare. There was another door to the left, and with a nod of reassurance and clasping each other’s hands, Ron and Padma opened it and stepped into a new room.

  
  
  
  


~~~~

  
  
  
  


Even though Gryffindor and Slytherin were not-so-friendly rivals, Minerva was proud to see Severus refereeing as fairly as he could manage his pride. Amongst her Gryffindors, she had heard whispers of frustration at the potions professor being involved with the match. It troubled her to see how divided the school really was. It had been bad back in the seventies, with James Potter and his band of friends cursing and jinxing Slytherins all seven years, but it had developed into a worser state now.

She saw how the students treated Harry Potter and his big group of friends, it was sad to see that inter house unity was frowned upon and seen as a bad thing. Then again, she couldn’t blame the political upheaval in the past several decades for that effect. Many Slytherins did side on Grindelwald and You-Know-Who’s side in both wars, but that didn’t mean that Slytherin was a bad house. 

The thought of Sirius Black always made Minerva want to throw something. That boy had been born into the worst family of all time, he had the chance of redeeming himself and becoming better than his last name, but in the end he wasn’t salvageable. He was a Gryffindor, so obviously no house was better than the other. She just wished that her students could understand that.

Watching Harry and his friends bond with Draco Malfoy, over his family situation, was inspiring enough to formulate plans of change in Minerva’s mind. She knew that You-Know-Who was still alive and waiting for the chance to rise again, and that meant that these young ones, who would possibly be future soldiers in a war that needn’t happen, needed to fight together against evil.

“Johnson scores! That’s 25 to 10, Gryffindor!” 

With a smirk, Minerva clapped politely, trying not to show her competitiveness for the sport. She missed the days where her limbs didn’t ache and she could get on a broom and play the sport. She had been good back in her day, an excellent beater for the team that won the cup three years in a row. She glanced over at her first years, who were cheering the loudest due to the mismatched group of friends from other houses. 

Harry and Draco stood side by side, clapping each other on the back and yelling loudly. It warmed Minerva’s heart at the sight, Draco Malfoy was a kind boy who deserved happiness like this-- she was pleased to see Harry Potter being one of those friends. 

One of the Slytherin boys, Mr. Zabini, clapped Harry on the back, which in turn made Harry jump out of the way and almost trip over the stands. It was an odd sight, but what concerned Minerva was the completely scared expression on Harry’s face. The boy had lost color in his face and he looked like he was cowering away from anyone’s touch.

With a start, Minerva became ravishingly angry, her fists clenching in her sleeves. She remembered the night after Lily and James had died and she sat out in the cold on the fence of Petunia and Vernon Dursley’s home, surveying the family inside and seeing for herself who would be taking care of Harry. At that point, Sirius Black had been unreachable, no one knowing that he had been behind the attack and was off to cause mayhem to a bunch of muggles, and Alice and Frank were on a mission-- leaving Harry’s aunt and uncle as the only option for Harry to stay until plans could be made.

Minerva hadn’t seen the will to know what options were in place for young Harry, but sitting on the fence and seeing those awful muggles go through their day, Minerva wanted nothing more then to eradicate them as an option for Harry to live and stay. But Albus had convinced her otherwise, his flimsy excuses of protection in the muggle world and being raised in his birth family, Harry had a place to live and Minerva ignored her gut instincts.

She never should have done so, because from the looks of it, Harry Potter was being abused. That wouldn’t fly with Minerva any longer.

  
  
  
  
  
  


~~~~

  
  
  
  


“This better be a quick visit, Harry,” Draco said, “because Pansy was going to help us on that Charms essay!”

“Of course,” Harry assured, opening the doors outside onto the Hogwarts grounds. “I have to write that essay too! I just haven’t talked to Hagrid in so long and wanted to thank him for my christmas present.”

“You could have written a note, just saying.” Draco mused, he shivered at the crisp January wind and pulled his cloak higher over his face.

“It’s not the same and you know that!” Harry laughed, shoving Draco’s thin shoulder. “It’s not even that cold out here!”

“That’s easy for you to say!” Draco exclaimed, his grey eyes alight, “You have a bloody death wish and  _ like _ the cold! I’d rather stay warm and intact, thank you very--”

“Shhh!” Harry shushed, clamping a hand over Draco’s wind-bitten face, “what’s Snape up to over there by the edge of the forest?”

As Harry pointed, another figure emerged alongside the potions professor-- one professor with a very distinct purple turban wrapped around his head.

“It’s professor Quirrel?!”

“Didn’t Weasley say something about him sneaking around the third floor corridor?” Draco whispered, his brow scrunched in confusion. “Professor Snape looks like he’s angry, I wonder what they are talking about…”

“Come on,” Harry grasped Draco’s hand and tugged them forward. “We have to hear this!”

“What about your favorite giant and that bloody intolerable dog?!”

“He can wait! Now be quiet!”

The two first years scrambled down the side of the hill, hiding behind trees and rocks in order to not be seen. Eventually they reached the edge of the forrest, a couple paces away from the two arguing professors.

“.... _ d-don’t know why you wanted t-to meet here of all p-places, Severus….” _

_ “Oh I’d thought we’d keep this private,” said Snape, his voice icy. “Students aren’t supposed to know about the Philosopher’s Stone, after all.” _

“That’s why Hagrid mentioned Nicholas Flamel!” Draco whispered in awe. “Why would it be in the third floor corridor?”

_ “Have you found a way to get past that beast of Hagrid’s yet?” _

_ “B-B-But Severus, I--” _

_ “You don’t want me as your enemy, Quirrell,” said Snape, taking a step toward Quirrell.  _

_ “I-I don’t know what you--” _

_ “You know perfectly well what I mean.” _

“Does that sound like Snape is the one trying to get the stone?” Harry asked, his voice hushed as he turned to look at Draco.

The blond boy was silent, his eyes flickering from both professors, assessing their body language and what had been said. Or what had not. 

“I don’t know,” Draco muttered, “I still don’t think he would do such a thing underneath Dumbledore’s nose, but I have a hard time seeing Quirrell doing it either.”

The two professors finally finished their conversation and stalked off to the castle, both going different ways. 

“We’ll keep an eye on them both,” Harry reassured his friend, hating to see how Draco looked so conflicted over his godfather’s allegiances. “I’d like to believe you’re judgement, so let’s keep an open mind.”

“Okay,” Draco murmured, chewing on his lip nervously. He finally flicked his gaze over to Harry, and his eyes softened and a smile gradually grew on his face. “Thank you, Harry.”

“Of course,” Harry said with a grin, wrapping his arm around Draco’s shoulder, “now let’s go nibble on some rock cakes.”

Draco groaned loudly. Harry laughed heartily at his friend’s overreaction.

  
  
  
  
  


~~~~~

  
  
  
  


“You two cannot be serious!” Hermione exclaimed, her eyes as wide as saucers.

“We’re telling you the truth!” Harry hissed, sitting down in the seat opposite Hermione's, Draco sitting on the arm of the chair beside him. “Hagrid really does have a dragon’s egg!”

“He plans to raise it in his wooden hut of all places! A fire-breathing dragon!!” Draco added in.

The doors to the library opened and Ron, Padma, Blaise, and Pansy walked in towards them. Stressed beyond belief with exams to study for and this newfound information, Hermione glared at the two in front of her. 

“Let’s keep this a secret, Ron is the only one who knows Hagrid like we do.”

Harry and Draco reluctantly nodded their heads as the other arrived at their designated table, Blaise and Padma having a heated debate about something or the other.

“Hermione,” Padma snapped, turning from Blaise to address Hermione, her dark eyes full of fire. “Isn’t the transfiguration essay due tomorrow and not thursday?”

“Yes,” Hermione nodded her head, flipping open her planner and looking over the assignments and info she had scribbled down. “It’s a full page and has to do with the theory of what we learned last week.”

“See!” Padma exclaimed, whirring around and jabbing a finger in Blaise’s face. “I was right!”

“Okay okay,” Pansy drawled, smacking her bag down on the table and shoving Blaise aside. “We get it, you need to fight over every single little thing, can we get started so I can get this stupid Charms essay out of my mind? We were also going to get started on a study schedule for the end of year exams!”

“Are we really starting this early?” Draco asked, scrunching his brow.

“Of course!” Hermione waved her hands at him. “I’ve been telling you how important it is to get on top of everything because the professors are going to be stepping up the difficulty level on everything!”

“In that case,” Ron muttered, his face going green as he slumped into a chair, “let’s get started. I’m already behind as it is.”

Despite the urgency of Hagrid’s situation, Hermione couldn’t help the stress of exams from becoming her number one priority. She needed to get top marks, it was her highest priority she made for herself when she realized how far behind she was in the magical world compared to other half bloods and purebloods. They had had their whole lives to learn about wizarding society and the culture, she needed to work twice as hard in order to have a chance in this world. 

She didn’t fit in with the muggle world, so she needed to fit in here. She would do whatever it took in order to have the best the wizarding world could offer her. It was a good thing she was becoming much better friends with both Susan Bones and Pansy separately. The two had grown up in the wizarding world and answered any and all questions Hermione had to ask.

Susan was kinder, she even had her own questions for Hermione about the wizarding world. The two bonded in their struggle with Herbology, which was seen as odd from Hufflepuffs, but they helped each other out. They would stay up late some nights and quiz each other on homework questions and mix in a couple of questions about each other.

“What are the different branches of the ministry and their impacts on wizarding society?”

“What is toothpaste?”

“Is there an alternative to house elves?”

“How do muggles travel without apparating or floo powder?”

Pansy, on the other hand, was more blunt than Susan-- but that didn’t mean she wasn’t unkind. The dark haired girl had a lot to say, since she was never allowed to really share those opinions at home. Her parents were pureblood idealists and tried to raise her the same way, but being a naturally curious and defensive girl, Pansy shared that never felt like she could fit in.

“I swear my mother hates me.” Pansy confided in Hermione, late one night when the others had retired for the evening and the two of them still wanted to study transfiguration for a bit longer.

“Everyone at my school hated me,” Hermione admitted shyly, her face burning with embarrassment, “they always thought I was annoying.”

After that, the two bonded in a much different way than Hermione had with the others. She felt like she could ask the darker, deeper questions that no one would give her the answers to or even hear her out.

“Why is it that so many Slytherins sided with You-Know-Who?”

That had resulted in a long silence, where Pansy glared down at the table and picked at her nails as she thought up an adequate answer.

“Salazar Slytherin’s ideologies,” she said hoarsely, “we value family and tradition. There’s strength in numbers, in each other, and it’s easy to be manipulated one way or the other when you grow up in such an environment.”

“Just like racists,” Hermione hissed, her eyes blurring and burning with tears, “and christians. I hated going to church with mum and dad and seeing all the white people glaring at me and my family behind our backs.”

“Muggles hate people for their skin color?” Pansy gaped, her face unguarded for the first time in front of Hermione, the anger shocking her.

“Just like how purebloods hate muggleborns.”

“I fucking hate them.” Pansy hissed. “All of them, racists and blood purists. I don’t want to be like either of them.”

After a month of ravenous studying and getting a schedule under wraps, Hagrid’s situation came to a breaking point. The egg had hatched and it was inevitable that someone would find out his secret. Harry wanted to help him out, his love for the giant of a man was apparent and Hermione would do anything he asked-- but within reason, since it was so risky to everyone involved.

“My older brother Charlie works with dragons in Romania!” Ron mentioned to the four of them that knew about the dragon during a passing chance of no one else overhearing.

“Ask your brother if he could find a way to get the dragon from Hagrid himself,” Draco mentioned, “that way we don’t have to out after hours and get in trouble.”

“Yeah, Snape hates me already,” Harry winced, “I don’t think he’d handle it well if I lost us any points.”

“ _ Professor _ Snape, Harry.” Hermione chided. “He is not that evil, okay? He’s working at a school with children, I don’t think he’d do anything to endanger himself.”

“Maybe he’s sneaky and has everyone around his finger!” Ron suggested, his distaste for the potions professor still strong.

Hermione immediately felt concerned when Draco didn’t say anything to back her up in his godfather’s honor.

It was a miracle that the plan with Charlie and the pet dragon went so smoothly, Hermione knew better than to think everything would be fine. 

“I think sumthin’ is killin’ all ther dragons in the forbidden forest.” Hagrid mentioned to them over their weekly tea session.

Hermione almost choked on the already inedible rock cake.

“What do you think is killing them, Hagrid?” She asked, horrified.

“That’s the thing,” Hagrid murmured, his big, bushy eyebrows scrunching together. “I don’t know what could do such an awful thing. To kill a unicorn is the worst thing someone could do, you’d have bad luck fer the rest of yer life.”

“Is Dumbledore doing anything about it?” Draco asked, his face red with anger.

“I don’t think it’s bad enough to warrant his attention just yet,” Hagrid said, “but i do want to scour the forest and see what I can find.”

“Do you need help?” Ron asked, he seemed excited about the idea of going into the forbidden forest.

“Yeah, we can help you Hagrid!” Harry piped in.

“We’d have to be really careful!” Hermione chimed in, scowling at the over-excitable boys, “the forest is forbidden for a reason!”

“Thank ye,” Hagrid thanked, his large face split in a wide grin, “I appreciate the help. I’m headin’ out this saturday night, that way you lot aren’t out late on a school day.”

Of course they had to mention to their friends what they were doing that saturday evening, their group of friends wouldn’t tolerate not knowing what they were up to.

“You’re really going to go into the f-forbidden forest?!” Susan squealed, Hermione shushed her as they finished brushing their teeth and returned to their bedroom. “But we aren’t supposed to!”

“There’s innocent unicorns being killed! I have to do something to help! And it’s Hagrid, he’s very kind and deserves the help.” Hermione explained.

“I’ve never talked to him before,” Susan whispered, jumping onto the end of Hermione’s bed, just as she did every night when they’d go over their notes once more and gossip a bit before bed. “He’s always out working outside. Is he really nice? He looks intimidating!”

“He would never hurt a fly.” Hermione laughed.

  
  
  
  
  


~~~~

  
  
  
  


That evening, unbeknownst to the professors, they had more important matters to discuss.

“You’re telling me,  _ Severus _ ,” Minerva hissed angrily, “that you have  _ known  _ about the boy’s abuse this entire time?!”

“Yes,” Severus snapped back, clutching his wine glass tighter, “but I could not do anything about it. I’m a spy, Minerva, I cannot do anything to raise my cover.”

“Oh bloody hell, that mission was given to you by Dumbledore and look at the fat lot of good that has done for anybody! Harry Potter is being abused! Draco Malfoy is being abused! Lily Evans-Potter is dead! Sirius Black is a traitor! We don’t need anymore bloody spies, Severus!”

Severus sat there, abashed as Minerva tried to compose herself. She never lost control like that, her anger was something she kept in check and never let boil over. But everything was cracking and crumbling away, she couldn’t trust Albus anymore, not after what he had forced Harry to endure. 

Nobody would outright see it, but Albus, and Severus’s, lack of interference in Draco Malfoy’s life was costing the young boy too. There were two young boys who deserved better, things needed to change  _ immediately _ .

“What do you want me to do, Minerva? I must agree with Albus to some degree, me being a spy works for the cause. I can do something, to avenge Lily.” He seethed, his eyes darkening with every word.

“I’m sure there’s something we can do that won’t blow your cover, Severus, if that’s what you want.” Minerva said. “But something  _ does _ need to be done.”

“Yes,” Severus growled, “I must agree, despite the Potter brat’s arrogance.”

“Harry isn’t James, Severus!” Minerva snapped, her anger blowing it’s last strand as she jumped up to her feet. “What he did to you was intolerable, but it’s over now! James is dead and Harry doesn’t reflect anything of James’ behavior. He’s one of your own, Severus! That’s more Lily than James in my opinion!”

After a beat of silence, where Severus just scowled up at Minerva grumpily, he casted hr a curious look.

“You think Lily was Slytherin?”

“Undoubtedly,” Minerva couldn’t help the smile from curling her lips upwards, “that girl was ambitious to the very core.”


End file.
